Who Wants to Live Forever
by MagickAlianne
Summary: Follow the story of Jane Christine Chagny, the quirky first female blood-Chagny in 200 years. What will happen when the ghost of her family's past returns? Summary should be punjabbed, but Please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

_**Disclaimer: I OWN EVERYTHING! Lol, just kidding, everyone!**_

_**Hallp, my peoples!**_

_**lol, inside joke...**_

_**This just came to me one day, and look how it's turned out? Pretty spiffy, huh? I know it's short in the beginning, but I promise, they get even longer as the story goes on! Seriously!**_

**_Well, as soon as you're done reading this bit, please please please review!_**

**_Thanks a bunch!_**

_**-Alianne (Fedora Girl, Laura, whatever...BobMcBobBob says I've got an identity crisis...which is true. HOW WOULD YOU pick? lol NOW, ON WITH THE STORY!)**_

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Chapter One

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A man sat by the fireplace in a giant armchair, the flames flickering shadows across his face, making him look harsher than usual as he read the newspaper. A young girl in a little white sundress was curled up by the grate, sending questioning glances to her father, debating if she should finally mention the thing that was plaguing her every thought for the past few days. 

"Dad?"

"Yes, Christine? What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering… Annalee invited me to see a play this Friday night. Would I…be able to go? I promise I'll be back right after it ends!" she twirled her copper curls, uncertain of what her father would say. She was pretty sure he would say no, but there was always a chance he wouldn't. Most likely because there was _music._ John Chagny disliked music with a passion, as did all the males of the de Chagny line, going back to his great-great-great-great grandfather Raoul. Christine couldn't even fathom _why_ they hated it. To her, music was everything, it was like her soul! But something had happened in her family that was kept a secret. Something that made her father and grandfathers before her despise music so suddenly.

_It must be pretty good, if they've been able to keep a secret _that _long,_ she thought to herself. _But why haven't they told _me_ yet? _

"What is the name of this play?" he asked, looking at his daughter intently.

"The Phantom of the Opera, Dad. It's supposed to be fantastic! It's better than the movie I saw at Cait's sleepover before we left! I loved the movie, but—uh-oh," she realized her mistake too late, and her father jumped up abruptly from his chair.

"No!"

"But Daddy…" Christine jumped up angrily, the flames from the fire illuminating the two figures.

"No Christine. I forbid you to see that musical!"

"DAD! Please! It's just a play! Why can't I go? What, is the 'Phantom of the Opera' too mature for me or something? I'm 15! I think I'm mature enough to handle it!" the redhead cried.

"No," was all he said.

"But Dad! It's not fair! Annalee's going, and I want to go, too! It's just one play, one night! Daddy, I _promise_ I'll be good! I'll do anything, just please let me go see it! Just because _you_ hate music doesn't mean _I_ have to! I'm sick and tired of you refusing to see my abilities in it! Please! I've worked hard in school, got perfect grades, for _YOU_! I've always done well in sports, for YOU! You always ignore my music, and I'm fed up with you not acknowledging it! And now, we've had to move from California to here, and I do love it here in New Orleans, but I've left all my friends behind! Annalee was my first friend here, and I want to have FUN for once! Lord knows you would ever let me go ANYwhere!" Christine was out of breath from her tirade, and looked to her father pleadingly.

"Christine…I…" Randall Chagny trailed off, and his wife bustled into the room.

"Christine! I thought I heard your yelling again! What has your father done this time? Not letting you go out with your friend again?" Reneé Hunter-Chagny asked, hurrying over to her daughter, giving her husband a stern glare.

"Mom, Dad won't let me go see a musical with Annalee this Friday," Christine looked up at her tall mother.

"And what is the name of this musical that you want to go to, Christine?" Reneé Chagny inquired, eyes twinkling, but still glaring at her husband.

"The Phantom of the Opera, Mom," her daughter replied, turning her pleading eyes on her mother now.

"The Phantom of the Opera?" Reneé's face fell as she heard her daughter say it.

Christine rolled her eyes exasperatedly. _More secrets. Ugh!_

"Yeah, it's supposed to be awesome, and I would reeeeeealy like to go! Pleeeeeease, Mom? I promise I'll some home right after it ends, or I could sleep over at Annalee's house, whichever one you want!"

One look at her daughter and Reneé lost.

"Of course, dear. I'll let you go see the…'Phantom of the Opera'. And I think it's safe to say that you can sleep over at Annalee's house that night, too. Do you want us to pick you up Saturday morning, or will you be able to walk home?" she asked.

"Yes! I'll walk home! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Mom!" Christine jumped up and down gleefully. She glared at her father before hugging her mom and running out the door of the large Victorian city house.

"I'm, going over to Annalee's house, Mom! Don't worry, I'll be back later!" she cried, already halfway down the street as the sun slowly began to descend.

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_**Well? How do you guys like it? **_

_**I had to rewrite these first few chapters, because it was just plain confizzling, and I just didn't like them. Nothing much was changed, though, just dates and little things!**_

_**Erik will show up soon, don't worry! OK, Christine and her family live in New Orleans near the French Quarter, and Annalee and her mom live IN the French Quarter. Not a very long walk for Christine, so, yeah. All these old houses and stuff got renovated, and the Chagny's moved because of her dad's job in the military. I hope this clears stuff up—keyword HOPE! Lol. More will be cleared up in later chappies!**_

_**Well, I guess all you have to do is REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**_

_**-Alianne**_


	2. Musing and New Orleans at Night

_**Disclaimer: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T OWN PotO! sob**_

**_A/N: Gratuities ya'll! Hahaha, hahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha—loser. _**

**_ShadownFairy101: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH! You completely made my day! I'll explain everything (well, almost. Can't be giving TOO much away, eh?) In this chapter, okay? I had purposely left a plot hole, so you guys would be wondering about it! No lie! Christine will be musing at Annalee's house and they get all phan crazed and stuff. Hahaha, nah. It'll be like a flashback thing. And her name isn't a coincidence, either! _**

**_bobmcbobbob1: You are too awesome! Thank you so very, very much for the lyrics! You like Queen? SO DO I! I have their Greatest Hits CD—well, it was my Dad's, but, meh. I like them anyway. Especially the "Bicycle" song, teehee. _**

_**-Alianne**_

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**Musing…New Orleans at Night…**

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**Last time:**

"_**Of course, dear. I'll let you go see the…'Phantom of the Opera'. And I think it's safe to say that you can sleep over at Annalee's house that night, too. Do you want us to pick you up Saturday morning, or will you be able to walk home?" she asked.**_

"_**Yes! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Mom!" Christine jumped up and down gleefully. She glared at her father before hugging her mom and running out the door of the large Victorian city house. **_

"**_I'm, going over to Annalee's house, Mom! Don't worry, I'll be back later!" she cried, already halfway down the street as the sun slowly began its descent._**

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****

Christine's mind was in turmoil.

Annalee had finished listening to Christine's recount of what had happened at her house, and they were watching the Phantom of the Opera DVD once more. Well, Annalee was; her brown eyes were glued to the television screen. Christine just stared, her eyes unfocused, a surge of thoughts raced through her head as the actress playing Christine sang to her lover le Viscount Raoul de Chagny on the rooftop of the Opera Populaire.

_There it is again! Chagny! _

_My name…Christine…Chagny…My family came to the States almost two hundred years ago…that was the time that…no. That's impossible!_ A part of her said.

_No it's not_, came another voice.

_I don't actually think that…_I'm_ related to _THE _Christine Daae, do I? _The first voice questioned.

_There's always a chance, _the other voice whispered again.

_Maybe…_

"Christine! Hellloooo? Christine! CHRISTINE!" Annalee tore her gaze from the Erik on screen, wiping a bit of drool off with her shirt sleeve.

"What?" Christine asked, immensely annoyed when her thoughts vanished and focused on her best friend.

"You weren't saying anything! You were just sitting there like a vegetable! You got me worried for a sec!" Annalee looked genuinely concerned for her best friend.

Christine's annoyance vanished suddenly as she saw her friend's worried face. Annalee's dark brown curls were starting to come out of their bun, chocolate brown eyes wide, her pretty face smattered with freckles.

"I was just thinking…nothing big…"

"'Nothing big'? Don't tell me it's 'nothing big'! YOUR LAST NAME IS CHAGNY! IT'S HUUUGE! AND YOUR NAME IS CHRISTINE! AND YOU LOVE THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" Annalee cried, waving her long arms about.

"Anna, it's probably all a coincidence, you know that! The Phantom of the Opera isn't real…isn't it? It's just a story made up by some French guy, which in turn was publicized and made into a multi-million dollar franchise, and the musical and all the movies are just part of it all, aren't they?" Christine nibbled on her lower lip as she thought about the tragic story concerning Christine Daae and the infamous Opera Ghost.

"I happen to think it's NOT just a coincidence! I tell ya Christine, it's FATE!" the brunette twirled around, going to her closet mirror.

"Oh really? Fate, huh?" Christine replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she brought her gaze back to the heartbroken phantom on the roof of the Opera Populaire.

"Christine, what has gotten into you?" Annalee whirled to face her friend. "Aren't you the LEAST bit curious?"

"Anna, of COURSE I AM! You think that I'm thick enough to NOT notice my last name is the same as that-that- FOP'S! I've known something was up the first time I watched the movie… everyone looked at me so strangely…I didn't know what to think…and I couldn't tell Daddy, because it was about _music_…" Christine's voice trailed off as she remembered what had happened that day, almost four months ago, back when she was still in sunny California.

* * *

_It was at her going away party at her best friend Caitlin's house. They had had so much fun, reminiscing about the past two school years. _

_Seventh grade had been hell at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Academy- Christine was the new girl, and nobody seemed to want to come near her. She was slightly overweight, and had black plastic glasses and braces. One day in the middle of October, her now-best friends Cait, Bri, and Katelyn came over to her desk where Christine sat and they started talking about random things, like their favorite classes, music, actors, and Harry Potter. Needless to say, the four clicked, and they were inseparable for the rest of the year. They formed their own group at the cafeteria tables, and more and more girls sat with them everyday. Soon, more than half of the female 7th graders owned the table, their laughs being the loudest and happiest in the whole lunchroom. A tall girl named Lauren with brown hair and small wire glasses and braces joined soon after Bri, Katelyn, and Cait did, along with a quirky girl named Amanda. _

_Spring break that year was a huge turnaround for Christine. She decided to change everything about her—she was tired of looking so plain, even though she knew she wasn't. Since January that year, she had started running four miles every weekend without fail, and she wanted to show everyone that she was indeed feminine! So, Christine begged her mother to let her get contacts, and her hair cut short. Her braces came off, and her normally auburn hair was strewn with a few light blonde highlights, making it look like a vibrant copper color. Not artificial looking coloring, either. Since then, her hair stayed a dark copper, even without the highlights. She simply didn't need them anymore. _

_It was like a whole transformation, a literal Cinderella. _

_Eighth grade proved to be by far the best school year she'd ever had. She still worked hard in school, but music became more prominent; her secret Bulgarian voice coach at school encouraged her to sing more and more! She taught herself to play the piano on her own in the third grade, and improved vastly over the years, her talent for music increasing steadily. She found an excellent piano teacher in the city, so Cait's mom agreed to take her every Thursday after school, instead of the regular 'study meetings', to learn even more in secret. She couldn't very well tell her parents she was taking _**music**_ lessons, could she? He sent her to the university when he could no longer teach her, and so she studied under the professors of piano theory and performance every Thursday, soaking everything up like a sponge. And the best thing was, it was all free! The professors recognized her talent, and understood her need for secrecy. _

_In November of 8th grade, Christine befriended a tall boy with black hair and warm brown eyes named Stephen, and they grew closer throughout the rest of the school year. She started to think of him as more than a friend, and so did he. They never told each other how they felt towards each other, but they knew the other knew. _

_But then Christine had to move to Louisiana because of her father's job in the Air Force, and the two lost touch for a month or so. One day, Christine had IMmed him and told him exactly how she felt about him, and they once more became a twosome. But after two more months of true happiness, he completely disappeared, never coming online again, never calling—but he couldn't do that anyway, as their relationship was a secret. _

_Christine was saddened; she knew they were breaking apart, slowly. She knew that her adolescent feelings of love were naive, and so were his, but she still wanted to hold on to the promises of summertime, forget that it could never last. _

_She didn't want to let go. How could she? What if he still felt the same way about her? She couldn't break his heart, could she? But what if he had already found someone else? They were, after all, freshmen in high school. Christine didn't want to become the fool, pining after someone who had already forgotten about her and run off with someone better._

_

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_

When she realized that she had gotten off the subject, Christine sighed and returned to the television just in time to see the red rose fall silently to the snow, the sobs of a broken man filling the room.

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_It was a stormy night, thunder booming and lightning flashing as Cait popped the newly released Phantom of the Opera DVD into the VCR. _

_It was the perfect atmosphere. _

_Christine's eyes widened as the scene shifted from the decrepit building of the 1900's to the brilliance of L'Opera Populaire in its prime in the 1880's. The Overture blasted, and she and her friends quivered in anticipation of what would happen next. _

_It came to the Hannibal rehearsal scene, where the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny first appeared. _

_Upon hearing his name, her friends turned sharply to look at their bewildered friend. Cait paused the movie, and said, "Christine? What is all that about? Your last name is Chagny. Your name is CHRISTINE! You could be related!" _

_Lauren and Amanda nodded their heads fervently, agreeing with Caitlin. _

"_I…no way! Must be just some freaky coincidence," Christine replied distractedly, wanting to watch the rest of the movie that had so enchanted her. _

_Cait pressed the play button, and when the movie finally finished there was complete silence. Tears rolled down Christine's cheeks, and there was not a dry eye in the room. _

"_How could Christine be so cruel?" Christine cried. _

"_I know! She broke his heart! TWICE! And she left because of a pretty boy! A dim pretty boy, too!" Bri wailed. _

"_But…now that I think of it, Christine was better off in the end. It _was_ her choice, you know. She had her reasons…she couldn't belong to Erik completely like he wanted her to, because a part of her belonged solely to Raoul. Erik needed the chance to find someone who would be part of himself and him a part of her…I don't think we can really hate her for not choosing him…" Christine said, thinking aloud. Then her face brightened, "but we can definitely hate Raoul!" and they all cracked up. _

"_But for what reason, Christine? What has he done wrong?" Lauren asked sarcastically._

_They all pretended to ponder over that statement, and Amanda cried, "BECAUSE HE'S THE FOP!" _

_Amanda grabbed her pillow and swung it at an imaginary person, shrieking, "DIE, FOP, DIIEE!" at the top of her lungs. _

_The offending pillow accidentally hit Bri, and it escalated into a whole pillow war. After a good fifteen minutes they plopped to the floor, exhausted. _

_More giggles followed, until one by one the girls fell asleep…except for one. _

_Christine lay awake long after her friends went to bed, her heart still racing from the movie. Could a movie ever bring her to feel like that again? She could identify with Christine Daae, and she found herself falling hopelessly in love with the fictional Phantom of the Opera just as the young French soprano did. _

_The last thing Christine heard was the strains of a violin playing in her ear…_

**(A/N: No, it wasn't Erik then. Well, it was, but she was thinking about the violins playing in the movie. Erik won't show up 'til later, okie day? Good!)**

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By that time, the movie was already over, and Annalee was snoring loudly next to a large bowl of Cheetos.

Christine snorted and stood up. She looked at her wristwatch and yelped. It was already 9:26! Her parents were definitely going to kill her for being out so late!

"Bye Christine, dear!" Annalee's mother called as Christine ran down the stairs. The redhead skidded into the kitchen.

"Thanks Mrs. Howell! Could you call my mom and dad and tell them I'm coming home right now? And no, you don't have to drive me; it's just a few blocks over anyway! Thanks for letting me come over! Bye!" Christine ran out the door and down the dark street.

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She ran by the nightclubs, the music booming from the loud speakers. Christine passed by restaurants, and the street performers, tourists and locals. It seemed that the night was only just beginning, the creatures of the dark finally starting to emerge from their holes.

She crossed an intersection and slowed down, out of breath. _Maybe I should have taken up Mrs. Howell's offer…_

She looked around her and didn't regret not being driven home. She was in the middle of all the excitement! She would have _never_ been able to do something like this if her father had anything to say about it!

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Christine whirled around, but saw nothing except the crowds hurrying by. She resumed her walking and came upon a deserted alleyway. She remembered that it was a shortcut Anna had showed her, just in case the crowds got too big for Christine to get home quickly.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise again, and before she could register what was going on, she was slammed into the brick wall by a strong pair of hands wrapped around her throat.

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AH-HAH! A CLIFFHANGER! I. Am. So. EVIIILLLL! I just HAD to do that!

Do the hands belong to a certain masked Phantom?

Maybe…

Maybe not…

You'll have to review review review if you want me to update soon!

Thanks again for the two reviews I've gotten so far!

Alianne


	3. A Question Of Honor

_**Disclaimer: Why must I resort to this every single time I post a chapter? **_

–_**gets down on knees pleading to stuck up lawyer guys in their schnazzy Armani suits, who shake their heads—**_

_**DRAT! I can't escape from the demand for disclaimers! What is this world coming to?**_

–_**Lawyer men grin evilly—**_

_**gulp. **_

**_A/N: Well, anyway, -looks nervously at malicious desk knights- ahem. Umm, yeah. I KNEW YOU GUYS WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOOOOOOOVE THE CLIFFY!_**

**_BobMcBobBob1: Oh. I didn't know there was a second one…hmm…maybe I'll go try and find it at the BX…but I don't think they would have it there. ZUT! That means I'll have to make a trek with the family into civilization CoughRosevilleCough. Sometimes it really stinks living way out here on the base. But it's really pretty out here, so I guess it KIND OF makes up for everything I'm missing…like going to a REAL high school, having a NORMAL life. Alas, that is not what the Fates have in store for me, unfortunately. I am doomed to a life of un-normal-ness. I've got Passion play practice tonight, so I tried to squeeze this in for you!_**

**_ShadowFairy101: Same goes for you! See? I UPDATED FOR THE BOTH OF YOU! Harrumph. Your review tickled me ALMOST to death. If it had, I wouldn't be able to post this for your enjoyment! Do I sense another cliffhanger in the VERY near future?_**

_**THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!**_

_**-Alianne **_

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_**A Question of Honor**_

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Last time:**_

_**The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Christine whirled around but saw nothing except the crowds hurrying by. She resumed her walking and came upon a deserted alleyway. She remembered that it was a shortcut Anna had showed her, just in case the crowds got too big for Christine to get home quickly. **_

_**She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise again, and before she could register what was going on, she was slammed into the brick wall by a strong pair of hands wrapped around her throat. **_

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Erik didn't know what possessed him to abandon his silent mansion and stroll down the streets of the French Quarter, but somehow he found himself doing exactly that.

Years…centuries had gone by…and he had lived through them all. Never growing older, never dying…just…

Existing.

Two hundred years he spent wandering the earth, a lost soul yearning to be found once more. Although, the pain had lessened over the centuries. Christine and her husband_ the Vicomte_ had died, their sons traveling to America to seek their fortunes, and most of all, to get away from _him._ He knew there had been books written about him, oh yes; and movies as well as a musical. He had never seen Monsieur Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical, himself. _Quite ironic,_ he thought. _Maybe I should see this rendition of my pitiful story. Lord knows I could get a laugh out of it. _

A stray tourist accidentally bumped into him, and she looked shocked for a moment, but shrugged it off and merely went on her way, accompanied by her boyfriend.

Erik was shocked, needless to say.

He passed by a group of ridiculously costumed street performers clad in vibrant masks, and his questions were answered.

It seemed everyone was strange here in the French Quarter.

He turned a corner and heard a woman's scream of rage muffled amongst the din of the clubs in the chilly night air. It was faint, but it was still there. He tried ignoring it, but it became louder as he approached an intersection. There was a red light barring the pressing crowd from crossing the busy street. His winced as another scream tore through the air, a high unbroken soprano filled with an even more enormous amount of rage. It sparked his interest, and he pushed his way through the crowd of tourists and party-goers as soon as the green man flashed on the post across the street.

_It is definitely a woman_, he thought to himself as he stepped back onto the pavement of the sidewalk. _What other kind of creature could make such racket?_

He was horrified at what he saw.

* * *

The bitter smell of alcohol assaulted Christine's nose, ragged breathing accompanying the disgusting stench of a man not washed for what smelled like weeks.

_Ewww…_Christine thought, before her eyes widened, shocked at the situation she was thrown into. Rage flowered from her in waves.

_HOW DARE HE?_ Christine thrashed against his iron hold, kicking him everywhere she could find, _hard._ But no matter what she tried, his hold on her gripped tighter, forcing her to breathe short shallow breaths.

"Dear little girlie, we ain't gonna hurt you. We's just gonna have us a little funnn, aren't we boys?" the drunken man said to his inebriated companions, who were laughing their heads off, amused at the girl's desperate attempts to shake off her captor.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" Christine screamed furiously.

"My, you're a feisty one, ain't ya?" the man gripping her throat moved a hand down her shoulder and down her side roughly.

"You MONSTER! Get OFF!" she screamed again, thrashing, trying to bite the hand that was pinning her to the wall.

The man's hand found the hem of her white sundress and began inching his way up her thigh, looking into her eyes all the while. Christine's eyes burned with hatred, his merely mocked her.

Christine took advantage of this, and spit right into his face. Her attacker howled and she was thrown unceremoniously into the side of a dumpster.

The pain was excruciating, but she knew she had to get away from these, these, _creatures._ She ignored the pain sprouting from her back and _sprinted_ out of the alleyway, not noticing a man clad in black watching the whole scene take place.

The girl's attackers recovered from the shock quickly and chased after the redhead.

Erik decided that he couldn't let this go any further and ran after the gang. A wave of tourists blocked his way, making him lose sight of the girl and her assailants. He swore under his breath until a soprano's yell caught his attention again. This time it came from _behind_ him?

_Ah, a smart girl, that's for sure. Crossing the street and going back the way she came. Brilliant_. _Most brats would have just kept running their legs off in one direction, and get caught. Hopefully, this girl would escape…_

He spun around and walked swiftly towards the still sprinting redhead. _My, does she have some endurance! _He thought. His strides became longer, and he caught up to the girl, who suddenly turned into another alleyway, and jumped behind a group of large crates stacked upon one another beneath a metal fire escape.

Erik raised the eyebrow on the unblemished side of his face. _What is she doing? Those men will surely find her there. Perhaps she's not as bright as I thought…_

He heard the girl climb atop a crate jutting out towards the ladder, groaning with the effort it took to scramble onto the rungs of the metal ladder.

_It seems I was proven wrong yet again._ He thought, smirking. He leapt onto the stack of crates and grabbed the struggling redhead with ease, climbing the ladder with a catlike grace he had perfected over the years. Of course, it was not as easy, because a certain girl with dark copper hair fought in his arms still, thinking he was one of her attackers.

"Get off! Please!" she cried, noticing the ground pulling away from her.

"That's no way to treat you rescuer, is it, my dear?" Erik raised his eyebrow again, a lopsided smirk crossing his features. He reached the roof, still carrying the girl in his arms. He set her down, but quickly regretted it, as she flew at him, raining blows to his chest.

"YOU! I TOLD you, just leave me alone!" she cried furiously, bringing her hand up to slap him.

He caught it, and told her, "Stop it this instant, little lioness. You are safe here. Do you think I would do to you what they almost did? You think my honor as a gentleman would allow that?"

Christine turned towards the edge of the roof, her red curls soaked with sweat, breathing heavily as she looked out over the city.

"I was doing just fine on my own, you know. I didn't need your help," she said.

"Maybe next time I'll just leave you then, hm?" Erik replied, his French accent showing through, frowning at her audacity. He had expected at least _some_ sort of gratitude, but with this girl, he wasn't getting any!

She controlled her breathing and her voice was strong, unwavering as she spoke, even though she was silently marveling at the man's voice. It was amazing! _Like velvet, only softer, silkier, more enchanting…I guess velvet's not good enough a word to describe it. _She thought to herself.

"Thank you…"

His eyes snapped to the illuminated figure of the girl, who still stared out at the city of New Orleans in all its glory.

"If you hadn't shown up when you did…I would have suffered a face worse than death. So, thanks for you help…"

Erik's amber eyes softened a little as a chilly breeze whipped the tendrils of her copper locks and sundress around.

"Even though I _was_ doing fine on my own," she continued.

Erik rolled his eyes. _My God, this girl is stubborn._

Her voice traveled from her place next to a winged gargoyle.

"_Quel est votre nom, Monsieur_?"

He blinked behind his half mask. _So she knows French?_

The man was silent for a long moment before he answered.

"_J'_ _ma pelle est Erik, mademoiselle."_

The redhead didn't turn around, but spoke again, echoing his previous thoughts.

"So, you indeed know French? I thought you had an accent about you. I'm still learning, but I guess it comes easily. I can understand what some of the shopkeepers here say, but I still get lost halfway through." She chuckled, seeming oblivious to the fact that just a few minutes ago, she was running for her life.

The man once known as the Phantom of the Opera was stunned.

"But aren't you afraid, little lioness?" he inquired, walking over to the girl.

"No. I'm terrified," she replied simply. Erik was once again stunned into silence. Christine turned her face to see her rescuer and her breath hitched in her throat.

_He was TALL!_

She saw the mask, the elegant sweater and tailored slacks, the golden eyes. The uncovered side of his face was the most handsome she had ever seen…this face was familiar…she had seen it in her dreams ever since that stormy night four months ago.

"You're…I…" her voice trailed off.

"Yes, mademoiselle? I'm what?" he asked, amusement and confusion dancing in his eyes.

Christine recovered her bearings and answered, "Nice costume ya got there. Suits you! Will you be in the parade tomorrow night? There'll be lots of guys dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, well, come to think of it some girls might, too, but gee, you've got it down! All you need is the suit and cape and you're perfect!"

Erik spluttered. _She thinks I'm dressing up?_ "I assure you, mademoiselle, you are mistaken. What makes you think I am in costume?"

Her eyes grew comically wide and she stuttered.

"But…_No one_ could look that good in a mask like that. Umm…well, what I mean to say is…drat." Christine's face steadily took on a pretty pink tinge and she tore her gaze from his and looked back out over the city. She jumped when his hand covered her shoulder.

"You were brave, little lioness. You need not be afraid of me, as I have said before."

"But I'm not!" She protested shaking her head vehemently as she walked over to the ladder. "And my name, _Monsieur_, is not 'little lioness' as you so charmingly put it."

"Then may I inquire as to what your name truly is?" he asked, following her to the fire escape. She took the first few steps down the rungs and looked up again and gave him a brilliant smile.

"It's Christine. Christine Chagny." With that, she finished her way down the ladder and walked out of the alley, waving up at him before she turned a corner, vanishing out of his sight.

* * *

Erik felt like a knife had plunged through his heart, opening wounds that had never truly healed.

_Chagny? _

_They came _here? _Of all the places in the entire United States of America, they had to come _here?

Erik felt another headache coming, but couldn't shake off his curiosity. He needed to find out more about this Christine Chagny girl.

He climbed down the escape and hid in the shadows, following the redhead down the streets of the French Quarter, past a neighborhood of newly painted Victorian houses, until she came to a yellow two-story with a quaint white half fence surrounding the front yard. She slipped through the front door, and crept up the stairs.

Erik saw a light turn on from an upstairs bedroom with a small balcony, and the form of Christine Chagny opened the French doors, allowing the curtains to sway delicately in the breeze. She stepped outside, turning her face towards the quarter moon, slightly shivering in her white nightgown. She began to hum softly, closing her eyes as the pale moonlight washed over her face. She didn't notice the shadow with golden eyes watching her intently underneath the tree that grew right next to the balcony.

_Her voice…what would she sound like if she sang?_ He found himself thinking.

She spoke to the night, enjoying the caress of the breeze gently picking up wisps of her long red curls and tossing them into the air.

"I met the most wonderful person tonight…He reminded me so much of Erik, the Phantom of the Opera…but that's not possible. I guess I'm just excited about seeing it this Friday night at the Amphitheatre. I can't believe Daddy's actually letting me go…Well, I guess its goodnight, for now."

She smiled up at the moon, and went back into her room, leaving the balcony doors open.

She crawled under the covers, reaching over to turn off the lamp. Christine fell asleep fairly quickly, and Erik could stand it no longer. He swiftly climbed the magnolia tree and stepped onto the balcony. He walked over to the sleeping girl's form and his heart tightened as he gazed at her peaceful, smiling face. From somewhere in his coat pocket, he dug out an untouched rose that he had never remembered putting there, so dark red it seemed almost black in the moonlight. He set it down on her nightstand and brushed the curls from her forehead. He silently exited the girl's room, taking care to close the French doors before climbing back down the huge magnolia tree and walking back to his mansion in the outskirts of the other side of the French Quarter.

He would be seeing this girl again, make no mistake.

**

* * *

**

**YAY! I** **just finished typing this at 10:03. TEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT, PEOPLE!** **I would really like to see some reviews after this, if you don't mind! I think this has to be THE longest chapter I've EVER written! **

**How do you like it? Is my version of Erik adequate for my raving readers? I happen to like him very very very much! Tell me if you have any ideas for what could happen next! I DO have plans, but I think any additional insight would really help! **

**Now,**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks!**

**-Alianne**


	4. It's A Beautiful Day

**A/N:** I would like to ask all of you who are interested in reading this story I've posted to read the Author Notes. They explain a lot, and I wouldn't want someone to just read the story part and totally ignore the author notes and ask a really stupid question that I've already answered. Not saying you guys are stupid! No way! It would just mean a lot to me if you could take the time to read them. It'll make reviews a lot more interesting! And I happen to enjoy reading personal reviews that aren't totally focused on the story, even though that's mainly what I'm aiming for!

**Disclaimer:**

Nope.

No way.

Nuh-uh.

Don't own it.

At all.

Wish I did, but, ah well.

**A/N:** Zoinks! I'm flustered at all the reviews I've gotten!

I have to thank **Willoe** profusely, because without her, I will never be able to make this fic truly realistic. So, my fellow Phantom phan, will you help me in my quest to make this fic surpass society's expectations? I hope you answer accordingly…I am well versed in the ways of pillow fighting, ya know.

So, in response to you review, I will tell you exactly what I had planned.

I pictured Annalee and her mom living in one of those city houses. You know, like in Hey Arnold. I know, it's a child's show, but that's what I pictured. I don't remember much from my stays in New Orleans, but I've seen pictures. So, I figure I'm basing the fic on some of those aspects. But please, feel free to point out anything that conflict with the real thing! I am quite versed in the history of New Orleans, product of my late great grandmother's incessant ramblings. Lol, no. It wasn't incessant, but I found out a lot from my mom and grandma. You are too lucky to live there! The only place I remember that even _remotely_ resembles New Orleans is Charleston, South Carolina, because I lived in Sumter S.C for two looooooong years. Charleston's history fascinated me, and I got more interested in ghosts and the eras before and after the Civil War there.

Oh yeah, and Christine and her family live in a made up neighborhood outside the French Quarter. That's all I could think of at short notice. Teehee!

**_LiTTleLoTTe1391: _**Thank you, thank you, thank you so very, very much for your reviews! YOU ARE IN NEW ORLEANS, TOO! –pouts- OK, now I have TWO readers in the magnificent place I am writing about! Grrr much, you two.

**_ShadowFairy101:_** Oh yes, its fantastic writing fanfics when you're continuously slumping over the computer keys in exhaustion, without any tootsie rolls because your brother ate them all. I smell a cliffhanger...lol.

**_ElvinScarf_**: Glad you love it!

**_BobMcBobBob1:_** I KNOW! And about the pet name, maybe…Hahaha! I couldn't stand to make it Kitten, like Liam did. Could you picture the feisty redhead answering to _Kitten? _-shudders- Even if it _was_ indeed cute for Alanna. And could you imagine Erik calling Christine _Kitten?_ Nope, I couldn't either. Oh yes, I love dishing out updates, especially to those who ask politely! –grin—

**_SparrowSkywalker:_** Ummm…No, it wasn't a mistake. I purposely made it just 'Chagny'. Remember, in this fic after Christine and Raoul died, their sons went to the States. Times had changed, and they couldn't keep their titles. You couldn't very well stay a French noble if you planned on living the rest of your life on a whole different continent with no ties to your home country. So, they just left out the 'de' part of their names and Americanized themselves. So it would be Rupert Chagny, instead of le Vicomte Rupert de Chagny. Is that okay for you? Thank you so much for reviewing! I hope you will continue reading!

**_MagickAlianne:_** I have to thank myself for reviewing my own story. Without me, you guys would never have been able to read this brilliant work! LOL! I'm just kidding.

But seriously, you really never would have been able to read it. You would have had to wait until some other poor literary soul found the inspiration to write it, much less post it.

I astound myself at my well hidden conceited nature. I guess it's all because of my fantastic readers that I've been able to finally speak my mind in all its sarcastic glory-ness!

You guys shall never cease to amaze me with your lavish praise!

Oh, and one other thing—I'm changing Erik's place of residence. He now lives on the other side of Christine's neighborhood in an un-renovated mansion, okay? I know it sounds awkward, but hey, it _is_ my story! LOL! I had to make them close, but making him live in the French Quarter would seem waaaaaaaaaaay too cliché. I seriously thought about making him live there, but I don't think there are any mansions in the awesome French Quarter of New Orleans. So, he lives in a mansion behind the forest behind Christine's high school.

Thank you so very much once more!

_-Alianne_

**

* * *

**

**It's a Beautiful Day**

_**

* * *

**_

_**Last time:**_

_**She crawled under the covers, reaching over to turn off the lamp. Christine fell asleep fairly quickly and Erik could stand it no longer. He swiftly climbed the magnolia tree and stepped onto the balcony. He walked over to the sleeping girl's form and his heart tightened as he gazed at her peaceful, smiling face. From somewhere in his coat pocket, he dug out an untouched rose that he had never remembered putting there, so dark red it seemed almost black in the moonlight. He set it down on her nightstand and brushed the curls from her forehead. He silently exited the girl's room, taking care to close the French doors before climbing back down the huge magnolia tree and walking back to his mansion in the outskirts of the other side of the French Quarter. **_

_**He would be seeing this girl again, make no mistake. **_

* * *

Christine awoke to the sound of sparrows twittering outside her windows, the sun shining through the sheer curtains framing the French doors. She reached over to grab her glasses and her forearm brushed against something velvety soft. Christine blinked, adjusting her eyes to the new clarity of sight. Standing up, she stepped over to the bathroom doorway to a quick shower. When she came out her glasses were off, in their place were a pair of contacts. She walked over to her closet door and picked out a pair of denim Bermuda shorts, a plain orange tank top and a pair of running shoes. Once she was changed, she grabbed a loose pale blue Oxford blouse and donned it, keeping it unbuttoned, as it was a fairly hot day outside.

Christine decided to keep her hair down so it would flow nicely down her back. She felt safer somehow with it like that. She felt too vulnerable, exposed, with her hair tied in a pony tail.

Morning ritual finished, Christine finally noticed the rose lying innocently on the carpet next to her nightstand. She uttered a small gasp and raced over to it.

The rose was such a dark red; it seemed almost a black hue. She felt a slight prickling sensation on her fingertips, and a drop of blood trickled down her palm from a single thorn buried in the flower petals. She sucked on her finger and toyed with the silk black ribbon.

Christine walked over to her bathroom mirror and tucked the rose behind her ear. Satisfied with her look, she ran downstairs to breakfast.

"Christine, you're awake. It's about time, girl. You'll be late for school if you don't hurry up," John Chagny said gruffly over his morning newspaper and coffee. Renee bustled about making sure her children's school lunch was ready to go. The kitchen was not too small, just large enough for a table for four, a bar with two stools, a refrigerator, and the countertops, stove, and dishwasher. It had a slightly antique feel, the dark rosewood accenting the crème and black stone tiles.

Christine opened a cabinet door and proceeded to prepare her bowl of cereal. "I'm down here, aren't I?"

Her father grunted, still not looking up from the paper. Christine pulled up a chair and sat across the table from her father. She idly stirred the contents of her bowl and John Chagny finally looked up at his daughter.

"Christine," he said sharply.

"Yeah, Dad?" the redhead looked up, her eyes questioning.

"Where did you get _that_ from?" her father asked, staring pointedly at the rose nestled behind her ear.

"Oh this? Umm…I just found it under my bed. It must have… I dunno. But it _does_ look very nice, doesn't it, Daddy?" Honestly, Christine didn't know where exactly the rose came from. It was indeed a beautiful flower, and she intended to wear it for the rest of the day.

Mr. Chagny seemed satisfied with her answer, although he snuck a few suspicious glances at his daughter while she happily finished the rest of her breakfast.

A young boy with sandy blond hair came rushing down the stairs, skidding to a halt before the toaster, impatiently waiting for the bread to pop out.

"Brent Chagny, what have I told you about running in the house?" Christine's mother reprimanded her son.

"Sorry mom, but I'm gonna be late for school if this stupid toast doesn't come out soon!" Brent replied.

He was answered with a loud crack from the electrical appliance and he grabbed the bread and sack lunch swiftly before shouldering his backpack and running out the door.

"You'd better hurry up too, Christine. Class starts in half an hour, and you'd best go now if you want to make it to school on time," Renee Chagny told her daughter.

"Yeah, I'm going! Bye Mom, Dad! See you later!" Christine hugged her mom and kissed her father's cheek before running back upstairs to retrieve her backpack. Instead of running downstairs again, she smiled an impish grin and jumped onto the thick branch of the flowering magnolia tree that descended right to her balcony. She clambered down the other thick branches and began her walk to the high school.

* * *

In the kitchen of the newly restored Victorian house, Renee and John Chagny exchanged worried glances.

Their only daughter was growing up.

The only female blood-Chagny in two hundred years would no longer be a child anymore by December. In the Chagny family, a girl became a woman on her sixteenth birthday, leaving adolescence behind, taking their first steps into adulthood.

Unfortunately for the Chagny line, no female child had been sired for centuries. Christine Daae bore no daughters, only sons, as did her sons' wives, her grandchildren's wives, and so on.

So, it came as a great shock to the couple of ten years when their baby girl was born. They thought nothing strange of it at the time-they were overjoyed in the fact that after ten long years, a miracle had happened! Brent Chagny came three years later after Christine, and life continued to be normal.

That is, until John's mother paid the family a visit. Old Jeanette Chagny almost fainted when she heard that her daughter-in-law had given birth to a girl. Christine couldn't fathom why her grandmother was so upset, but John and Renee finally remembered what had been drilled into their minds since they day they were wed.

_Do not expect a daughter. We Chagny's have not sired any females for the past two hundred years. Do not expect one now. It is the curse. Should the unthinkable happen, and you do, keep her away from the music! Nothing good will come out of it. Remember, keep her away…_

* * *

Erik found himself at the window of his study, overlooking the street of a quaint neighborhood of newly restored Victorian houses. His mansion, however, had been untouched. No one seemed to want to enter it, thinking it was haunted by vengeful spirits.

_And in a way it is,_ he mused as he poured a glass of rich red wine in a glass of fine crystal on a fine wooden tray. His study contained an ornate mahogany grand piano of the finest quality, and bookshelves surrounded the entire room; everything from philosophy to anatomy, books of history and music theory lined the bookcases. He wore a finely made form-fitting sweater and dark grey dress slacks. **(A/N: I can't see our precious Phantom in JEANS, can you?) **Erik lounged in an overstuffed armchair, looking out over all the different houses, until a figure of a girl slipped into his vision.

She was walking down the street hurriedly, obviously in a rush to get somewhere. The girl had a large backpack, so he assumed she went to the high school behind the mansion.

_Of course. Brat._

The sun shone upon her hair, sending glints of copper into his vision. Erik did a double take, staring at the redhead keenly behind his white half-mask.

* * *

Christine didn't spare a glance at the houses she passed by, and turning a corner, she looked up as an enormous mansion captured her attention.

It looked old, _very_ old. Majestic was the only word she could think of to describe the place. The mansion looked like it hadn't been touched for centuries. Although, the front yard was neatly mowed, so she decided someone must live there, maybe. Or maybe the neighborhood gardeners decided to keep the lawn in shape for appearances?

It intrigued her to no end, but she knew she mustn't dawdle. She still had classes to go to, remember?

Christine tore her gaze from the ancient building and sprinted the rest of the way to the high school.

For some inane reason, Erik felt compelled to follow the redhead. He donned a lightweight black jacket and black fedora and silently trailed behind the girl.

They turned another corner, and the grounds of an enormous high school came into view.

"Christine! Hey! Christine!" Another girl who had been walking along another street, presumably a close friend of the fiery redhead, ran to his unwary prey.

"Oh my God, CHRISTINE! That rose! It's amazing! Where'd ya get it?" the brunette asked.

"Hey Annalee! Umm…No clue where it came from. It was just on the floor next to my bed, and it was so pretty that I decided to wear it today," Christine replied, taking the rose out from her hair and tenderly stroking the petals, oblivious to the man following behind her. She tucked it back behind her ear, smiling softly.

The three entered the gates, two of them chatting happily while the last stayed silent, keeping to the rows of trees lining the path winding to the entrance of the school.

It was still twenty minutes before the bell, and students from every year milled around the front granite steps. The school itself was a magnificent affair of red brick and limestone. It was newly built, but it elicited an air of history about it.

"Christine, Annalee! Hey!" A tall girl with long black hair and tight-fitting jeans and a black halter ran down the steps towards the two girls. She had black plastic glasses, and lime green flip flops, and an air of superiority about her. With a nicely shaped figure, she was constantly attracting the stares of boys wherever she went.

"Meganne," the two girls grumbled and plastered fake smiles on their faces.

"Oh my goodness Christine! What are you _wearing_? You need some other more fashionable things, dear. I love your rose! You _must_ come sit with us at lunch today, sweetie!" Meganne jumped from one subject to another so quickly, it startled Christine and Annalee.

Irritation growing in her chest, Christine replied, honey sweet sarcasm dripping from her voice, "If you must know, _dear, sweet _Meganne, I am wearing an orange tank top, Bermuda shorts, blue over shirt, and tennis shoes. No, I'm _quite_ fine the way I am, and yes, my rose is absolutely extraordinary. And I must decline to your offer for lunch, because I'm quite busy then. Is there anything else you would like to know"

"Oh please, don't call me Meganne! It makes me sound like an old maid, don't you think? Me and the girls would just love it if you could spend lunch with us, but, I guess your previous arrangements are obviously more important than your friends. Sorry to have bothered you again, dear," Meganne sounded slightly miffed, but she covered it up quickly. "But if you do happen to change your mind, I'll be with the seniors!" And Meganne flounced off to join her own clique.

"My God, she's annoying," Christine muttered under her breath. Annalee nodded her head before bursting into giggles.

"You should have seen her face when you said those things! It was hilarious!" the brunette gasped out between laughs.

"My dear Annalee, I fail to see what is so amusing," Christine retorted dryly.

"You would, wouldn't you?" This time, it wasn't Annalee speaking-it was a plump girl with horn rimmed glasses and braces. Her mousy blonde hair was in one short braid, her jeans fitting badly around her figure.

The girl's eyes widened considerably behind her spectacles.

"Christine! You've got a Phantom rose!" she looked at the redhead suspiciously, as did the rest of the Thespian Society who had silently come up behind their 'leader'. It seemed like ever since Christine had come to Briar Hills High School, the theater group had looked strangely at her, as soon as they learned her name.

"What are you talking about, Constance?" Christine asked, more than annoyed.

"Ahem. Your rose, _Christine Chagny_. It is the exact same as the one the Phantom of the Opera gave to Christine," Constance said matter-of-factly, stressing the girl's name.

Christine rolled her eyes.

"Come on Anna, we'll be late for class."

"But the bell hasn't even rung yet!" the brunette protested.

"So? Just come on!" Christine desperately wanted to get away from the disconcerting stares from the theatre club.

"Christine, the doors are always locked before the bell rings, you know that," the president of the Thespian Society said.

The redhead groaned.

_Ring!_

Christine breathed an enormous sigh of relief and bolted through the now open wooden doors. Erik moved to the side of the building, catching glimpses of the girl through the windows as she listened to her teachers' boring lectures. She seemed preoccupied, occasionally bringing her hand up to the rose behind her ear and smiling dazedly as she thought about something entirely irrelevant to her class.

* * *

A resounding bell tolled marking the lunch hour, and Christine slowly stepped out of the classroom, still reliving the events of the night before.

She didn't go to the cafeteria like the rest of her classmates; instead, she walked outside to another building that looked like a smaller version of the school.

It seemed like the music halls were deserted, and Christine took full advantage of her time alone, however short it would be. The door to the recital hall opened silently, and Christine walked over to the polished ebony grand piano as if in a trance. Erik followed, waiting in the doorway and watched the redhead with great interest.

She sat down at the piano bench and her fingers gently met the keys, the soft tinkling of a Debussy prelude filling every corner of the great room. She finished playing with a small smile playing at her lips, and poured everything she had into a robust _Scherzo_ by Mendelssohn.

Erik was in awe, she played with so much feeling, it awakened something in him, and he was confused at the emotions coursing through his veins.

The _Scherzo_ came to an end, trailing off into nothing as she breathed heavily, perspiration shining on her forehead and trickling down her temple. Christine ran a hand through her slightly damp bangs and grinned stupidly, impressed with herself.

"I guess I didn't lose much since the move. After all, it has been almost five months since I last played the piano."

She giggled and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes.

"_Brava, brava, bravissima…"_ a voice whispered all around her.

**

* * *

**

**WOO HOO! That took me a long time to finish! I couldn't write much of it yesterday, because I did have to do my schoolwork. I finished most of it this afternoon, because I had piano lessons with my professor at SAC State in Sacramento. Ya. I'm totally wiped—it was an intense session, most trying. But it was so awesome! I'm working on a Scherzo by Mendelssohn right now for a competition in April (teehee, see where it comes in?) And I'm in love with it! **

**My inspiration comes from listening to Sarah Brightman's Harem World Tour CD and talking to myself. Yes, full conversations. Very productive. I get lots of ideas (OMG, DON'T GET YOUR MIND IN THE GUTTER YOU PERVS!) for my stories. **

**I can't believe I'm turning 15 in….5 Months, 1 Week, and 6 Days. WOOT! Lol!**

**Now if you could please, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**-Alianne**


	5. Voices REPOST!

**_Disclaimer:_** NOOOO! –breaks down into fit of sobs—NEVER _EVER_ will I own PotO! SO STOP TORTURING ME WITH THIS ABSURD DEMAND FOR DISCLAIMERS TO STOP ME FROM TAKING WHAT SHOULD RIGHTFULLY BE MINE!

Ahhh, much better. It's better to let it all out instead of bottling it all in, eh?

**OK, ATTENTION EVERYONE! THIS IS A REPOST OF CH 5! NOT MUCH FLUFF THIS CHAPTER! Sorry, but, CHRISTINE AND ERIK NEED TO BE FRIENDS FIRST! And remember, Christine DOES have a boyfriend…who shall be showing up in the near future….mwahahaha….but he's DEFINITELY NO RAOUL! I couldn't bear to inflict the foppiness on her current love interest---it would be much too cruel.**

Now, my responses to your wonderful reviews!

**_BobMcBobBob1:_** I know I know---but I've RE-written this chapter now, so, ya. It's a WHOLE lot better than last time. And I haven't gotten my check yet.

Drat it all!

**_LiTTleLoTTe91:_** You. Are. Going. WHERE! Darn you! AGAIN? –pouts- Hope ya like this chapter! Hey, you said you were going from Wednesday to Tuesday—Mardi Gras is on a Tuesday…that's odd….you'd be leaving ON Fat Tuesday…or will you leave on Ash Wednesday?

**_ShadowFairy101:_** Ah, I see. I didn't get the first review you sent me---I got the dreadfully short one. I was a bit miffed, though. I like long reviews.

Especially ones that say the magic 'U' word ALL the way down the page!

**_Elvin Scarf:_** I am so glad that you still love my precious ficcy! Ya—I want it to be humorous, not supernatural anymore. But SERIOUS---I haven't done a very serious fic…unless you count my current one-shot "In the Autumn Twilight"…but I doubt that will stay a one shot for much longer…

**_MooMoo-Sama:_** Hai, yes…age conflict…Dude, Christine's dad would go ballistic! Hahaha, especially when—oops--- IF he finds out that the daughter he's intent on protecting from the monster actually has fallen in love with him. But that'll be a long time in coming. I think I made my first post of Ch 5 too fluffy for my tastes. Well, anyway, douzo!

It should be like…GEORGE AND ALANNA! That was my inspiration for this fic, really. I adore the couple---Jon was fantastic, but I REALLY couldn't see Alanna with HIM! Could you? Sadly, I cannot find it in my heart to bash Jonathan---but I can most definitely loathe Raoul to my heart's content.

The fop needs to die. Well, he DID---a long time ago.

Darn it.

**_Maska:_** Thanks…I decided to take the Author's note at the end of the chapter down, because I didn't know if I would get flamed for my religious views or something completely idiotic like that. No, I didn't think you were rude at all!

I totally agree---I think I went overboard on Stalker! Erik. He's still not gonna be shown in this chapter, though.

I'm evil like that.

**_Madame Opera Ghost_**: YOU HAVE THE COOLEST NAME! Wish I'd thought of that when I signed up. AND YES! Thank you so much for the BRILLIANT idea about the costume! I shall most definitely use it, with your permission, of course. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?

She'll be wearing it, no doubt about it!

As for your other questions….you shall have to read and –mystical airy voice--_all will be revealed_…I SEE ALL WITH MY INNER EYE!

:Ahem: OK—my Trelawney half has gone back up to her North Tower once again.

**_Alianne_**

_**

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**_

_**Last time:**_

_**The Scherzo came to an end, trailing off into nothing as she breathed heavily, perspiration shining on her forehead and trickling down her temple. Christine ran a hand through her slightly damp bangs and grinned stupidly, impressed with herself. **_

"_**I guess I didn't lose much since the move. After all, it has been almost five months since I last played the piano."**_

_**She giggled and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes. **_

"Brava, brava, bravissima…"**_ a voice whispered all around her. _**

* * *

The redhead bolted straight up off the piano bench when she heard the voice.

"Who's there?" she asked to the recital hall, not being able to tell where the fantastic voice was coming from, but somehow she _knew_ this voice…

She was sure she'd heard it before, but _where?_

Here eyes traveled across the room, straining to catch sight of her seemingly invisible audience.

The stark white walls of the recital halls glared at her, little specks of dust dancing in the beam of light shining down from the many skylights. The stage was of a light colored polished oak, and the seats were quite uncomfortable plastic grey ones. She knew all too well what those seats felt like—advanced choir on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays was a testament to that fact.

Christine sighed.

"_Christine…"_ the voice came again,

Her face brightened considerably as she finally recognized the voice's owner.

"Erik?" the redhead called out to the room. She couldn't believe it was him, why would he be here, of all places? But the voice _was_ his, she was sure of it.

But she was rewarded with absolute deafening silence.

"Darn. Did I dream the whole thing up? I think there are too many dust specks floating around in here," she murmured to herself, settling back down onto the piano bench.

"_You are not dreaming, little lioness."_ The voice came again, filling her ears with music, lilting, mesmerizing…

"Yes I am, Erik," Christine replied absently, warming her fingers up again, the scales steadily going higher and higher before coming back down again rapidly. She didn't seem to notice that she was holding a conversation as she played the piano.

Erik chuckled softly from the shadows near the back of the auditorium. _That girl was so strange_, he thought to himself. _Random, unsystematic, peculiar, eccentric, fierce, hot-headed, the list really could go on for eternity. _

Christine began to hum gently as her fingers danced in a quiet Chopin prelude. She closed her eyes, the dust motes from the beams of sunlight shone, making her hair blaze as she played.

A vision of a man clad in an impeccable evening suit and white half mask suddenly appeared in her mind and she grinned, flowing from the Chopin prelude to _Angel of Music_ like she had been playing the second song the whole time.

Erik watched the freshman girl play the song his angel used to sing to him all those years ago. His jaw clenched tightly as the memories flooded through his mind's eye in a rush.

_Christine in her dressing room after her first performance as the new prima donna in Hannibal. Christine singing with the Vicomte de Chagny on the roof of the Opera Populaire. Christine ripping his mask off, and her look of horror when she saw his face._

_Christine...fleeing in the boat with her lover the Vicomte after Don Juan…_

"_Christine…"_ he whispered, his voice full of the pain and sorrow and longing that he had not felt since…since _she_ left.

The redhead at the piano had begun to sing as he relived his past, her voice filling every corner of the room, but still so quiet and soft he had to strain his ears to hear it.

She sang Meg Giry's part first, trying to imagine the exact moment that that scene took place in the movie.

_Christine…_

_Christine…_

The girl at the piano broke off and sung the Phantom's part ever so softly.

_**Christine…**_

She came back to Meg's part and resumed playing the piano.

_Where in the world _

_Have you been hiding?_

_Really you were_

_Perfect!_

_I only wish_

_I knew your secret!_

_Who is your great tutor?_

Christine played the little interlude before Mlle. Daae's line and began to sing again.

_Father once spoke of an angel…_

_I used to dream he'd appear…_

_Now as I sing I can sense him…_

_And I know…he's…here!_

_Here in this room_

_He calls me softly_

_Somewhere inside,_

_Hiding!_

_Somehow I know_

_He's always with me_

_Hear the unseen genius!_

Erik listened intently to the redhead as she played and sang. Her voice was not forced out of her throat like other girls'; instead, it came straight from her diaphragm. It was clear, not the least bit nasally. He could tell she had been well trained…and by the sound of it, by a stocky Bulgarian woman who liked peanut butter a little too much.

Christine Daae's voice had been almost identical to this girl's; he would remember his protégée's voice anywhere. It constantly resounded in his mind, not giving him any rest for the first fifty years of his newfound immortal life.

_Damn gypsies._

**Meg's Part:**

_Christine you must have been dreaming…_

_Stories like this can't come true!_

_Christine you're talking in riddles,_

_And it's not…like…you!_

Christine's voice grew louder as she sang the higher notes, reveling in the pleasure of hearing her voice bounce off the high walls of the recital hall, her fingers pounding away at the piano, making her sing even louder so she could hear herself over the accompaniment.

_Angel of Music_

_Guide and guardian!_

_Grant to me your_

_Glory!_

_Angel of Music_

_Hide no longer_

_Come to me strange_

_Angel!_

She left off there, not wanting to continue, as it was the duet between Meg and Christine, and you can't sing two parts at once, she thought aloud.

"_Quite right,"_ the voice came again.

"Dear God, I'm hallucinating, hearing things! That is NOT, I repeat NOT the Phantom of the Opera talking to me right after I finished one of his signature songs!" Christine cried, getting up from the piano.

She stopped.

"Or is it?" Her eyes widened comically and she shook her head wildly. "Eh, no way, no way no way no WAY. Yes way? Nooo? ….Yes? Yes! No! No, no, no, no, no! " She started pacing across the stage, almost having a full conversation with herself.

Erik watched in amusement. _This girl was…_well, he'd think of something later on.

When she whirled around and still paced across the stage muttering to herself, he couldn't suppress the chuckle that had been threatening to escape.

Christine's head snapped up. She knew that chuckle!

"Erik?" she called again, searching the shadows enshrouding the last few rows of seats in the back of the auditorium.

Darn it. She couldn't see him.

Darn it all.

She _had_ thought about him a lot today…but she already had a boyfriend! She wasn't thinking of Erik in…you know…_that _kind of way. He just looked uncannily like Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, that's all.

_I mean, duh! He DOES have a white half mask, his eyes are golden, and he's super handsome on the side that's uncovered…OH MY GOD! He's like Gerard Butler in the Phantom of the Opera movie's twin! He IS Erik! _A voice said in her head.

_Whoa. Now, what makes you think THAT, Christine?_ Came another voice.

_Do I honestly have to answer that? _The first voice replied.

Christine broke out of her little trance-like state and looked around the room to see if her friend was still there.

"Erik?" she called.

No answer.

Erik just sat still in the shadows, wanting to see what she would do next.

Christine shrugged after calling him again, walked over to the piano, but gave a gasp and ran off to the stage wings.

Erik started to get up from his fairly UN-comfortable plastic chair, but sat right back down again when Christine reappeared, twirling around onstage in a long dark maroon skirt and white peasant off-the-shoulder top. The corset was a dark black, her copper locks cascading down her back. Her skin was so creamy…her green eyes seemed even brighter than usual, and her cheeks had a rosy tinge to them as she spun around and around humming and singing smatters of _Point of No Return _and _Masquerade._

Wait.

He knew that dress.

It was HIS Christine's costume from HIS opera _Don Juan Triumphant_! How did she…ah. The movie…he hadn't seen that either. Now he had to watch the pitiful musical AND the pitiful movie.

Pity.

How he loathed the word.

It was quite pitiful how he loathed the word.

Christine stopped dancing with her invisible partner and started stalking towards the middle of the stage, trying to mimic the Phantom's scene during Don Juan.

_Passarino…_

_Go away for the trap is set_

_And he waits for his prey!_

_You have come here…_

_In pursuit of your deepest urge…_

_In pursuit of that wish _

_Which 'til now_

_Has been silent…_

_Silent…_

_I have brought you_

_That our passions may fuse and merge!_

_In your mind _

_You've already succumbed to me_

_Dropped all defenses_

_Completely succumbed to me…_

_Now you are here with me…_

_No second thoughts…_

_You've decided…_

_Decided…_

_Past the point of no return!_

_No backward glances! _

_Our games of make believe _

_Are at an end!_

_What raging fires shall flood the soul?_

_What rich desire unlocks its door?_

_What sweet seduction lies before…usss…_

Christine glanced down at her wristwatch and decided she had enough time to sing Christine's part and be able to undress and escape the music building without being noticed. She gave a lopsided grin and began singing Christine Daae's part.

_You have brought me.._

_To that moment when words run dry._

_To that moment when speech disappears _

_Into silence…_

_Silence…_

_I have come here_

_Hardly knowing the reason why!_

_In my mind I've already imagined_

_Our bodies entwining—_Christine always blushed furiously whenever she came to this part of the song.

Her cheeks burned red and she fled the stage again. What if HE had been watching? That wasn't the kind of song she would EVER sing in front of ANYone, especially to its supposed composer.

Heck, she wouldn't sing it in front of Stephen! Well…maybe not. He liked it when she sang. He would always sit quietly with her when she ranted on and on about the Phantom of the Opera, sometimes interjecting with bouts of sarcasm and wit.

Christine knew she loved her best friend in the whole world more than anything. Yes, she loved her parents, but this was much different.

She knew that Stephen probably had a really hectic schedule, with his guitar lessons and school and basketball and such. He probably didn't have the time to get online.

Christine was ashamed that she had EVER thought he would have abandoned her. What if he thought that she would leave him?

She was horrified at the thought. _I have to talk to him…after the parade tonight, of course. _

The redhead scuttled into a dressing room and quickly changed out of her Aminta costume and back into her regular clothes. She was very proud of her work, especially since she hand-stitched it all by herself—she didn't trust sewing machines.

She saw what happened to the Grinch.

Christine burst into giggles and walked back to the stage. She still had ten minutes before she had to leave the recital hall.

Time sure was going slow today. Instead of going back to the piano, or singing again, she just sat down at the edge of the stage and laid back, squinting at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight.

The silence was so peaceful…Erik almost forgot that someone else was in the room.

That girl was most definitely the oddest of them all.

_RING!_

The bell thundered in her ears, making her leap up, trip, and fall off the stage. The redhead scrambled back up and rushed back up the stairs.

"Darn stupid bell," Christine muttered as she closed up the piano. She turned off the lights for the stage and got the sense that someone was watching her as she left the building and trotted through the trees leading back up to the school.

"_Christine…" _Erik called, still following the redhead.

"ERIK! You ARE following me, aren't you! I can't believe it! You're a stalker. I do not wish to see you ever again. Go now and leave me!" Christine teased.

She slowed down to a walk and waited for him to answer.

He didn't.

Darn it!

"Well, Erik, if you won't talk, I will! There's gonna be a Halloween parade tonight, and I was wondering if you were gonna go too. Uhhh…there'll be too many Phantoms to count, but I'm sure you'd be the greatest, but, anyway. Oh! I almost forgot! Me'n Anna are going to see "The Phantom of the Opera" tomorrow night! I can't wait! You should come with us! I understand if you don't want to, you wouldn't want to go with us mature feminine girls anyway. Dad almost had a heart attack when I told him about the play," the redhead rambled on at her slow pace and finally stopped entirely.

"_Christine…"_ his voice whispered in the wind.

"Yeah, Erik?" Christine leaned against a tree and didn't bother opening her eyes this time. It was wonderful outside, the sun was shining, and Erik's voice was so enchanting…

"_You're late for class."_

**

* * *

**

**I'm afraid I shall have to go on a rather long hiatus from FFnet and fanfiction altogether. **

**I seriously screwed up in my homeschooling stuff and now I'm paying for my lack of effort. **

**Gawd, I have to do half a year of school in 1 month and a half.**

**I'm so stupid!**

**Well, anyway, I won't be back 'til June! I'M SO SORRY! But can you fault me for being lazy?**

**Please don't answer that.**

**Now…….**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Your humble authoress,**

**-Alianne**


	6. The Tirade and the Parade Hey, that rhym...

_**I'M BACK!**_

_**WAHOO! In secret, BUT STILL! **_

**_I'VE GOTTEN 38 REVIEWS!_**

**_I'M ECSTATIC! AND ONLY WITH FIVE CHAPTERS, TOO! _**

Wish it could be more, but still!

Hahaha, shameless begging for more reviews here!

Well, I got into lots of trouble a couple nights ago---my parents found out about my obsession w/ fan fiction.

Wasn't too pretty, BUT, I actually thought they could have been madder than they were. It shocked me to say the least.

Unfortunately, they started reading a terrible Draco/Ginny fic I had been looking at.

Still, it could have been worse!

THANK YOU ALL MY WONDERFUL, SUPERB, TERRIFIC, BRILLIANT, AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, FANTASTIC, EXTRAORDINARY, OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD REVIEWERS!

Luv ya guys!

My response to your reviews will be posted at the END of the chapters from now on!

…I think.

I don't know!

As always,

Alianne

**

* * *

The Tirade and Parade (Hey that rhymes!) **

* * *

"**Christine…" his voice whispered in the wind.**

"**Yeah, Erik?" Christine leaned against a tree and didn't bother opening her eyes this time. It was wonderful outside, the sun was shining, and Erik's voice was so enchanting…**

"**You're late for class."**

* * *

In freshman World History, Christine was diligently doodling away in her dark red Phantom of the Opera movie picture-covered binder and she couldn't even listen to her favorite teacher's lecture from the front of the room. 

The redhead was giddy.

Okay, more than giddy. But wouldn't _any_one be if they had met the supposed Phantom of the Opera?

Who knows what Anna would do if she found out.

Christine giggled and pictured her best friend chasing Erik around the classroom with a notebook, knocking over desks and chair, papers flying all around the room in order to get his autograph, or a hug, or something.

Nope, she couldn't tell anyone about Erik.

She cursed under her breath—which was a very un-like Christine thing to do, as she realized this would be an even _bigger_ secret than the already ginormous one about her and a certain tall boy with a mess of black hair and warm brown eyes.

_Stephen…_Christine felt her cheeks pleasantly fizz with heat as she thought about him. _His middle name's Erik,_ she thought bemusedly. _How I miss him…Well, it's only what, three and a half more years until we see each other again. That's not very long, is it?_

_Heck yeah it is! _

Christine scrunched her nose, trying to repel that line of thought before she got too depressed. She'd probably talk to him tonight, anyway.

After the parade, of course.

Strains from Meestah J's speech on 'His Extreme Shortness Nahpoleeon Bone-apart and da 'undred days war, mon and how da po' mon be defeated at Wah-tah loo' drifted through her ears.

The girl snapped her thoroughly doodle-covered notebook shut and resumed listening to her hilarious teacher who was now walking through the rows of desks handing out the last week's essays as he talked about the Congress of Vienna.

Mr. Jives was a short, squat aging Jamaican man with a thin face and shockingly white hair in tufts around his head, resembling a halo. His glasses were far too big and they magnified his brilliant blue eyes, and his outfit was no better—all the sequins and bursts of shiny metallics and neons made him look like a dragonfly. He had an odd taste in fashion, but it didn't take away from his teaching. In fact, it made the classes interesting for once. All the other teachers were drab, colorless, boring, even the music teacher there was depressing, making what _should_ have been one of the best classes the absolute worst. Meestah J., as he encouraged his students to call him, was without a doubt the 'coolest old guy ever', as Anna once said to Christine.

Christine turned in her seat to face the window, which over looked the side of the school. She could see a thick copse of pine and magnolia trees and a small stick jutting out above the canopy.

The redhead squinted to get a better look at the small forest, but her contacts somehow managed to start blurring up. Christine had to blink rapidly to see straight again. By this time, Meestah J was at the seat right in front of her handing Constance her graded essay.

The president of the Thespian Society squealed when she saw the number written in green gel pen at the top of her paper.

"96! I got a 96! Who else got a 96 on theirs?"

Everyone in the classroom groaned—this happened every single time the essays were handed back, and every time….

No one? Oh, that's too bad," she said in a mock sad voice.

"Yes child, fantastic job! You've gotten the highest grade…so far. Keep it up, my child, and you might be able to pass up…" Meestah J took a couple steps to reach the desk behind Constance's.

"Christine's! You continue to amaze me, child! One 'undred percent! You keep making 'istory come alive like that, and I will nevah have ta grade yuh pay-pahs again! It is astonishing how you can capture da very _essence_ of what it was like during da time of da French Revolution!" he praised the red-faced girl.

"Thanks, Meestah J," Christine mumbled, rereading her essay to make sure he wasn't lying about it. _Every_ _single class_ it was like this and the redhead still wasn't used to it. The tiny Jamaican skipped back up to the front of the classroom and started writing details about that night's assigned essay.

Constance turned around and glared viciously at the girl behind her. Christine looked up, satisfied that her paper was truly up to her standards like he said it was, and stared at the girl with indifference. _Every single class_ this happened and the redhead learned that being submissive was not going to work.

"_You…_" the blonde girl hissed.

"Yes, it's me," Christine replied seemingly bored with the situation, knowing that this would antagonize her even more. Inside, though, she was quivering with anger.

"You're a cheater, you know that? _No one_ can get perfect scores like that _every single time_. I'm going to find out how you manage that, and I'm going to expose you for the little lying Pandora you are!" she whispered nastily.

Christine's mask of indifference wiped off her face instantly. She jumped up abruptly, knocking her chair to the ground, fire blazing in her eyes. Her fury emanated from her body in waves, every fiber of her being crackled with electricity, finally releasing what she had wanted to say ever since the first class of the year with the girl.

"_Cheater? You actually think that I would…would…CHEAT? How DARE you! Just because I WORK HARD at something and it gets its just reward, you think I CHEAT! And _I'm _not the cruel, self-absorbed, spiteful, vindictive, malicious Pandora, _YOU_ are! AND STOP USING LINES FROM THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA! YOU ABSOLUTELY BUTCHER THEM! YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY IT RIGHT!"_ the redhead spat. She gasped for air, breathless from her tirade against the smug girl sitting in front of her.

She heard a whoop from the other side of the room, "GO CHRISTINE! YEAH!"

Christine blinked, feeling like she had been dunked in ice cold water as she came out of her surreal trance.

The redhead slowly bent down to right her fallen chair and took her seat, speechless for the rest of the class.

**

* * *

**

**The night of the Halloween Parade: Christine's house**

"Christine!" Renee Chagny's voice drifted from the living room.

"I'll be down in a minute, mom!" the redhead cried, putting the finishing touches on her costume, humming little snippets from "Masquerade". Her hair was transformed into lush copper ringlets cascading to the middle of her back, and her costume fit perfectly, thanks to her mom. One day over the summer, Christine had been sitting on her bed stitching the bodice when her mom abruptly opened her bedroom door, and once the redhead told her mother about her plans for the costume, her mom immediately pitched in, making sure the bodice was just right and embellishing the skirt.

"You want to look like her so badly, don't you," her mom had murmured one day at the beginning of the school year.

Christine twirled around in front of her mirror, reveling in the way her skirt bloused out like popcorn. She giggled a little, and put the rose Erik had left by her bed that morning in her hair. Somehow, the beautiful flower had not lost any petals during the day, nor did it look anything _but_ perfect.

Her heels were very uncomfortable, but what did she expect? It _was_ only for a night, after all. Then she wouldn't have to wear them ever again—at least until Mardi Gras, and that was almost five months from now.

She grabbed her mask, and looked back into the mirror. She gently put it on, as it was a dainty black fabric that only covered the skin around her eyes. Her warm emerald green orbs were flecked with golds, cinnamons, and the faintest bit of blue around the edges. It was an odd combination, but it seemed to suit her.

Christine slowly descended the stairs, as not to get her hair or costume mussed. Her father was nowhere in sight, which was a good thing—she didn't know what she would do if he saw her dressed as Aminta. The bodice was a little low cut, not _too_ showy, but it was enough to turn heads. Christine had never worn something such as this, and she wasn't used to it. But after all, it was only one night.

Renee Hunter-Chagny was standing behind the brown sofa in the living room when Christine came down the stairs. Her eyes went soft as she looked upon her daughter, and Christine could see they were over bright with unshed tears.

"Oh look at my baby! She's so beautiful!" she cried, rushing over to her redheaded daughter.

"Christine, oh Christine! You're growing up into such a fine young lady! Your father and I are so proud of you!" mother embraced daughter, and held on tight.

Renee pulled away, her dark auburn curls falling into her face, and she brushed them away with one hand, the other tracing the rose softly.

"Love you, dear," she said, going to the front door. The girl slowly stepped out of the house, and got past the little white picket gate before turning around and running back to her mother, giving her a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh mom! Thank you so much!" Christine said into her mother's shoulder. They both pulled away, and Christine turned around and went out the front gate and started walking down the street.

"Have fun and be safe, Christine! And remember to be back by 11:30!" Renee Chagny called to her daughter. Christine waved and resumed walking to the French Quarter.

* * *

Christine was assaulted with the sights and sounds of the festive French Quarter; every color imaginable was spinning around, the smell of the Halloween cooking wafted through her nose. Sadly, the parade had already come and gone, and at 8:00 the dancing had commenced. 

Everyone had masks covering their faces, and they were dancing in the streets as if they did it everyday.

Jesters, goblins, kings, queens, satyrs, great birds, men and women in full Court Regalia and the occasional ghost or two swirled together in a great dance that wasn't interrupted, and the tourists stopped to watch the spectacle, cameras snapping away.

Annalee walked lightly down the steps leading from her apartment to the festivities below, searching for her best friend. She hadn't seen Christine's costume yet, and she couldn't wait to show off hers.

"Anna!" a voice called from her right, and Annalee saw Christine making her way through the crowds in her Aminta costume.

"Christine!" Anna shouted, pushing aside a pair of tourists to get to her best friend.

"Anna! Your costume is amazing!" Christine exclaimed. It was true, Anna had let her shoulder brown hair down, in big, soft curls, and her costume was a light pink ball gown of durable fabric, because dancing in the streets in silk is _not_ a very good idea. Her mask was light pink as well, bedecked with tiny faux pearls and silver glitter.

"So is yours, Christine! Let's go dance!" The two girls stayed together for a few moments, until a tall blonde boy with a red mask dressed as a harlequin asked Annalee to dance with a flourish and a deep courtly bow. Anna giggled and went off with the boy, leaving Christine alone by a green flower stand by the sidewalk.

She stood there for a split second before another tall guy sidled over to her, asking her to dance. She agreed, and they were swept into the throng of dancers.

The boy had a mess of flaming red hair, and wore a green and gold mask with two long horns poking out the front. The mask was quite…intriguing, or rather, ugly. It looked like it would jump off his face and try to eat her if she wasn't careful.

And his _eyes!_ They were blue, and his stare was quite disconcerting, to say the least. He didn't talk, just stared at Christine unblinking.

The redhead girl tried in vain to strike up a conversation while they twirled with the other dancers, but he just tried to slip his hands lower down her waist to grip her behind.

Christine gasped in shock and pulled away from his hold sharply.

"Just what do you think you were doing!" she asked, outraged.

"What?" he asked stupidly. "You likee?" he drawled, eying her bodice hungrily.

"No!" she yelled, stomping on his foot with her heel with one leg and kicking him in the family jewels with the other, and simultaneously, Christine slapped him, hard across one cheek and he doubled over in pain. "I most certainly did _not_ like it at all!"

With that, she whirled around and encountered the chest of a _very_ tall man who had a black velvet mask that covered half of his face, and one eye. His outfit was all in black complete with a cape, and he was beyond handsome, even with the half-mask/also surrounding one eye.

"Erik?" Christine cried happily. "You're here!"

"I am, little lioness," he replied, his voice entombing her in its sweet melodiousness.

Christine scowled and turned away from him. Erik grabbed her arm gently and spun her back towards him, continuing with the dance as if nothing had happened.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," she hissed.

"So you did," Erik replied. "But I'm not one for following orders, am I?"

"Darned Phantom," Christine muttered, looking out across the sea of the swirling colors of the dancers.

He bent down towards her ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs on her neck. "That I am, Christine," he whispered, causing the redhead to involuntarily shiver.

"I knew it," she whispered back.

"When?" he asked, slowly pulling away from her, his arm looping comfortably around her waist.

"Today, if you must know, Monsieur," Christine replied.

"Ah, I see," he murmured, his deep voice causing the redhead to shiver again. _What's he doing to me? _She wondered to herself. _Stephen's been the only one _ever_ to make me shiver like this. Why is Erik making me feel the same way? _

_It had to be the thought of actually _being_ in the presence of THE greatest literary figure of all time, there could be no other explanation. _

The continued to twirl around in silence for a moment, until he whispered again in her ear, "You make a lovely Aminta, mademoiselle," his breath once more made the hairs on her neck stand on end, but it was not a completely unwelcome feeling for Christine.

"Why thank you, monsieur. You make a lovely Don Juan, if I may be so bold to say," the redhead replied teasingly.

He chuckled, and the music from the speakers softened out of existence slowly as the song came to a close.

Christine glanced down at her wristwatch and yelped. It was already 11:26! She was going to be late for her 11:30 curfew, and she didn't want to have another shouting match with her dad- she had had enough of that for one day.

"What is it Christine?" Erik asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"Oh, it's nothing much. I just have to go home _now_ before I'm late!" she cried, gathering her skirts and rushing off into the crowd. She stopped abruptly, turned around, and ran back to the former Opera Ghost.

"Thanks for the dances, Erik. I hope you can come with me and Anna tomorrow night to the play. Well, bye!" she said breathlessly, and hurried off out of the French Quarter, leaving Erik to blend back into the shadows.

* * *

Christine slipped into the house by climbing the tree leading to her bedroom balcony, and quickly changed out of her costume and gently placed the rose on her bedside table. She quietly rushed into her bathroom and took a short shower, and right after coming out, she sat down at her computer desk. 

_Darn it! He's not online AGAIN! I'll try to call him tomorrow, then. _

The redhead sighed resignedly and closed the balcony window doors. Slipping under the purple comforters, she turned off her bedside lamp and went to sleep.

* * *

Upon awaking in the morning, Christine found a pure white magnolia flower lying innocently beside the dark red rose. **

* * *

**

**HAHAHAHA, I FINISHED! WoOt! I am so happy! HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY! I'M SORRY!**

**SORRY SORRY SORRY!**

**bawls into pillow **

**I'M SO SORRY YOU GUYS! I LET YOU DOWN! **

**falls silent for a moment, then bursts into hysterical laughter**

**I've officially lost it.**

**I'M DOING BETTER IN SCHOOL NOW! YAY!**

**ALL THANKS TO YOU GUYS!**

**coughcoughYEAHRIGHTcoughcough**

**It's very heart-breaking to know that John Paul II died. I'm Roman Catholic, and I seriously wanted to go to Rome for the funeral Mass—WHICH WAS IN LATIN, might I add, which is THE coolest language EVER---yeah, I'm taking it along with French, and Arabic, and I'm only a freshman in high school! Woot!**

**I want to go into Medieval Studies, well, more like Eastern European Near Middle-Eastern Medieval Studies, if I must be specific.**

**I plan on taking as many foreign languages as I can during these next seven years: OLD and Middle French, Arabic, Syriac, Old Latin, New Latin, Aramaic, Italian, and Romanian. -pants for breath-**

**I love Romania, and I don't know why….**

**I think it's their pop music, and the landscape.**

**Yep, definitely the music.**

**_Nota Lone:_ OMG, YOUR REVIEWS ARE HILARIOUS! 'Foppish pleather'? snort I KNOW! But gypsies are awesome, though. I can't update "Red and Black" for reasons unknown to even myself. I SINCERELY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CHAPPY! The next one will be out in….I have yet to specify.**

**_BobMcBobBob1: _HERE IS YOUR UPDATE! I personally like this one too—I had to write and rewrite it like a bazillion times, but hey! Isn't it good? -looks around and gives sigh of relief at nodding satisfied reviewers- YOU'RE GRADUATING! Wow! Good luck wherever you're going! **

**_LiTTleLoTTe1991:_ Here 'tis! Thanks for reviewing all this time!**

**_Maska:_ I love you too, girl! Vous est trés magnifique! I have many many many FANTASTIQUE ideas for this story, and I'll update soon! **

**_ShadowFairy101:_ -cackles evilly- IT WAS TO MAKE YOU SUFFER! MWAHAHA! ahem But here's your update! I hope it will compensate for your grief! (That ALMOST rhymed…)**

**_MayaRose:_ I am oober glad that you like this magnificent piece of art I am so diligently trying so hard to write:snigger: Work of art my arse... -gasp Language, dear Laura!- Hahaha, anyway.**

**_Madame Opera Ghost:_ OMG, no way! Wait, what? Is your boyfriend never coming online either? Do you call him once a week without your parents knowing? And when you DO call him, he sounds super psyched to hear from you! Ahhh, he makes me shiver! Does your boyfriend make you shiver? He should, because that kind of feeling should be experienced! You have not lived until your boyfriend makes you shiver just by thinking about him! afterthought And hearing his voice…**

**And I'm babbling.**

**Darn it! That always seems to happen, too!**

**I AM SO GLAD THAT ALL OF YOU WERE WILLING TO WAIT UNTIL JUNE FOR ME TO COME TO MY SENSES AND UPDATE!**

**Just so you guys know, the next one will be up sometime next week, if I can manage that much! I DO have lotsa papers to do, so yeah. **

**Don't worry **

**About a ting**

'**Cause every little ting**

**Is gonna be all right!**

**Hahaha, Shark Tale is one of THE funniest movies of ALL time!**

**OK, this Author's Note is officially OVER!**


	7. Icy Dunking

**I just want to thank everyone for reviewing so far! You guys are the absolute greatest! I never ever ever NEVER thought I would get FORTY-SIX reviews! It's amazing! It's even passed up "Red and Black" in the number of reviews!**

**I realized that SOME OF YOU weren't able to review last chappy because I had posted and taken down and reposted Ch 6! I should've written this and Ch. 8 already, but, REAL LIFE IS SOOOOO NOT BORING RIGHT NOW! It's BEYOND hectic! Stupid S.T.A.R testing…**

**That stands for Stupid Tests At Random, if ya don't know. lol.**

**I've decided that I don't like posting reviews at the end. But if YOU like it when I post 'em at the end of the chappy, then by all means, I will! But I've gotten so many reviews I just don't know if I'll be able to answer them all personally! Hoo-wee! **

**Maintenant, on avec le histoire! I don't know the French word for 'on' teehee - **

**-Alianne (Oh come ON, ya'll know my name, I just like to keep up mysterious appearances, ya know)**

**

* * *

**

**Icy Dunking**

* * *

The redhead sighed resignedly and closed the balcony window doors. Slipping under the purple comforters, she turned off her bedside lamp and went to sleep.

Upon awaking in the morning, Christine found a pure white magnolia flower lying innocently beside the dark red rose.

* * *

Christine felt her stomach drop to the lowest point, her heart fluttered in her throat as she realized the full implications of what that magnolia meant. She clutched the purple coverlet to her chest tightly on her bed as she stared at the flowers.

_He got in my room…again! And my doors were closed! How the heck did he get in…Oh my God, what if…if he's really the Phantom…_

_Crap._

Dread filled every part of the girl, and she cursed herself for her stupidity. How COULD she? She wasn't in her right mind the past two days; there was no other plausible explanation for her doing something so naïve, so, so, not her! Well, maybe it _was_ her, but a full-grown man had been in her room! Twice!

_Broke into it, is more like it,_ Christine thought to herself. _What if he _**wasn't**_ the Phantom? Oh God…this is NOT happening to me! I can't have a stalker! And I just allowed it, too…_

_And I can't even tell Mom…definitely not Dad, either. _

"Ohhhhh shiitake mushrooms…" Christine moaned aloud.

_What was she going to do about tonight? She actually _invited_ they guy to come with them to see the Phantom of the Opera, what was she going to tell Anna? _But there's no way on EARTH that she was _EVER _going to miss seeing the musical!

The pit in her stomach grew unbearable, and she slowly rose from the haven of her purple and gold LSU bed to go to her closet. She was about to grab a pair of khaki shorts and a light green polo t-shirt before her mom's voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs.

"Christine, dear, we've got Mass this morning so wear something decent!" Mrs. Chagny called.

Oh yeah, it was All Saints Day. How could she have forgotten? Every year the Chagny family checked out its children from school and took them to the first of November Mass.

Hey, now she had more time to think about what she was going to do with Erik. Mustn't complain about that!

Christine kept the light green polo shirt and grabbed a pair of khaki capris in place of the shorts. She decided that keeping her hair in two long braids would suffice for the rest of the day; until tonight, anyways. A pair of bright orange flip-flops would also do nicely.

She shuffled into her bathroom and came back out again a few minutes later, dabbing her face with a dry towel to wipe off any extra soap as she eyed every corner of her room, making sure nothing was out of place, just in case "Erik" had decided to mess around with her stuff.

The "Labyrinth" poster was nestled betwixt her world map and the Daniel Radcliffe one. Jareth and Harry stared out at her and she sighed dreamily. Nope, Erik didn't mess with these…

Her great purple and gold LSU Tiger roared back at her from its flag tacked to the wall. Nope, Mike's alright, too. The green and gold Fighting Irish flag with its feisty leprechaun hadn't been touched, either. Jack Sparrow and Aragorn faced her gaze unwaveringly; they too had not been messed with. A long sword hung over her bed placed along the wall directly across from the balcony window. It hadn't moved from its spot. The walls that weren't covered by movie posters were painted in deep purples, greens, and golds. Pictures taken from the year before dotted the rest of the spaces, she and her friends grinning madly at the camera. Her white computer desk had been scuffed during the move pretty badly, but other than that there was nothing wrong with it.

Her Phantom of the Opera movie screensaver flashed on her laptop screen and Christine rushed over to it. It was Erik! Erik… he looked exactly like Gerard Butler, but without the accent….his voice was much MUCH better than Gerry's. It still had the rock star sound to it, but it seemed…_different_ somehow…and the golden eyes….those weren't the Gerard Erik's eyes…his were a shocking turquoise color-definitely not the warm, dark amber that seemed to...

Wait, weren't there other versions of "The Phantom of the Opera" other than the movie and the musical ones? Christine remembered Anna raving about the book by…who was it again? Leroux? Yes, it was by Leroux.

"I guess I'll have to do a little background check on my little…Opera Ghost," Christine drawled dryly.

Argh! That pit in her stomach wasn't going away! She pushed her dread down and headed to the living room and out the door where her mom and brother were waiting at the silver minivan.

"Took you long enough, Chris!" Brent complained as their mom started the ignition.

Christine ignored him and climbed into the passenger seat. "Hey Mom…where's Dad?"

Renee Chagny hesitated slightly before replying. "He's on TDY…"

"Okay…but where?" Christine asked.

Another pause, and then, "Beale," was all she said. Christine's eyes started to prickle and she turned to face out the window.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, but—"

"But what? You guys kept it from me? You could have at least told me he was leaving!" Christine burst out. "Now he's going to be the one to see MY friends, not ME! I don't even have a yearbook! We LEFT before I could get one!" _Not only do I have to deal with a masked stalker, but now this!_

"Jane Christine Chagny, do be quiet already! We'll call your father and see if he can pick one up for you, all right?" her mom said, pulling into the church parking lot. "Hurry up, or we'll be late!" The trio hastily made their way into one of the middle pews on the left side of the church. Abstract stained glass windows adorned the walls, and in the spaces between them, long plain green and white tapestries hung. It was simple, but at the same time conveyed a deep sense of power emanating from all around. The redhead instantly became relaxed, and began praying on her knees before the priest and acolytes processed in. They still had about twenty minutes before the Mass even started, geez, Mom!

Christine closed her eyes and breathed in and out softly. _Well, let's get everything straight here and now. Suppose Erik is the Phantom of the Opera--he hasn't done anything to hurt me in the past few days, has he? No, if he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it by now. Or he could be _waiting_ to hurt me…he waited for Christine, didn't he? _

_No…I still think he would have done that by now. Besides, he helped me get away from those creeps night before last. He left me a rose, and then he showed up at school yesterday. All right, so I didn't _see_ him, but he was there, I heard him! That was so cool, hearing him call softly "Brava, Brava, Bravissima…" _

_Hey, he did it to Christine Daae too! How many girls will EVER hear THAT in their lifetime? Except for the time in the movie, of course-can't forget that. He's more of a Gerard Butler Phantom, but there're the other versions, too…I know for a fact that in the Leroux version he has a mask covering his WHOLE face except for his lips, and he's got a wig, and hardly any nose…but the Gerard Phantom doesn't! His hair is all glossy, like Erik's! It's thick and so black…And he doesn't have Gerard Phantom's eyes…Erik's eyes are all amber-y colored, not blue. And he's not wearing the dress suit like he did in the movie…he seemed all modernized, somehow. Can someone like him be immortal or something? I mean, come ON, the whole thing happened two hundred years ago! Or really, since it was 1881 when it all started…AHH! Math! Noooooooo…_

_All right, about a hundred and twenty five years ago. Not exactly two hundred like I thought, but still, that's a LONG time! He doesn't even look a day older than thirty! _

_Whoa…thirty? GOSH, I'm fifteen! He's fifteen years older than me! What does he WANT with me? He doesn't SEEM like a perv…so maybe he's just curious…yes, he's just curious, that's all! _

_Maybe it's got something to do with my last name…if he's really the Phantom; he's got to be interested in the Chagny's. DARN YOU CHRISTINE DAAÉ! CURSE YOU! _

_Now I've got a stalker guy coming after me! But he hasn't DONE anything! Grrr…I think too much for my own good. I'm just gonna go up to him tonight and we'll get everything straightened out. No kidnapping, no breaking into my room and no punjabbing my friends!_

_Yeah, that's what I'll do! Now all I have to do is check out that book by Leroux…just to see exactly who I'm dealing with…_

"Christine!" someone hissed. "Get up! Mass is over!" Everyone began processing out of the church, and the redhead rose up dazedly from her spot in the pew. Her knees almost buckled on her, jeez! She had knelt during the whole entire service!

"Oww…" she moaned as her family walked to the car. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, so they had time to rush back home to get backpacks and rush back to school in time for lunch.

* * *

"Now where is that blasted book…" Christine murmured aloud as her fingers traced the spines of the numerous books on the shelves in the school library. Hardly anyone was in there during lunch, so she had the place to herself; even the librarian wasn't in the room.

"Ah-hah! There you are…" the redhead grabbed the book and settled down in a cushioned window seat overlooking the forest. She flipped through the introduction quickly, her eyes skimming over the pages, looking for any information that might pop out at her. She learned that the Opera House was seventeen stories tall, and was the largest theatre in the world, and of the underground lake, which she obviously knew of from the movie. She came to the author's note and gasped as she read it, how Leroux _knew_ that the Opera "Ghost" was real! He was! How could anyone think that he WASN'T real? And who was the Persian?

The redhead closed the book and stared out the window. She saw the same stick from before jutting above the trees, and she peered closer, trying to see it better. Then she realized that it wasn't a stick, it was a spire!

There was a house in those woods! She saw through the gaps in the trees that the house wasn't a house—it was a mansion! An old one too, by the looks of it.

Was it the same mansion she saw on her way to school every morning? She tore her gaze away from the old building and stared at the cover of the book. It showed a figure with a white mask shouting, with a gaudy red plumed feather stuck jauntily in his fedora, and a black cape swirling around the white title.

Christine flipped to the first chapter and began devouring it. Meg had black hair? But it was blonde in the movie…YES! A description of the Phantom! Wait, Buquet wasn't a drunk? He wasn't leery and scary and crazy like he was in the movie!

BUQUET WAS _SOBER!_

ERIK HAD A DEATH'S HEAD! No he didn't! In fact, he was very handsome in real life!

CARLOTTA WAS _SICK! _But… didn't Erik—no, he's the Opera Ghost right now; they haven't even given him a real name yet! _I thought she quit after Eri—the Opera Ghost—dropped the set thing on her! _

Andrew Lloyd Webber sure did a number on the book. But this version was just as interesting as the movie…

Whoa. It even made the fop sound even foppier than he already was!

What a truly awesome novel…

_RING!_

"Durn bell," Christine grumbled as she shut the book closed. The redhead gently placed it in her green backpack and left the library.

She needed to talk to Erik before the play tonight—but when?

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**SEE!**

**Isn't it good?**

**Lol!**

**Sorry it took so long!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Love ya guys!**

**-Laura (Alianne, if you need to be told once more!)**


	8. Filler, Filler, Filler!

**Ch.8**

**Hey, there's not much to this chappy---I guess you can call it a filler chapter if ya want to…but I had to get it out NOW, or else my brains would shrivel up…**

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FILLER FILLER FILLER!

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"Durn bell," Christine grumbled as she shut the book closed. The redhead gently placed it in her green backpack and left the library.

She needed to talk to Erik before the play tonight—but when?

* * *

"Christine! Christine! HEY, CHRISTINE!" The brunette hissed as loudly as she could without attracting the geometry teacher's attention. The redhead was diligently writing in her notebook, her mind ablaze with thoughts of what she would say to Erik when she next saw him. But of course, Annalee didn't know that.

"Christine! Yoo-hoo! Christine, I'm talking to yoooou! Come on, CHRISTINE!"

Christine's hand stopped abruptly, pen poised above her notebook paper, and her eyes traveled to her friend slowly. "What? Can't you see I'm taking notes here?" she whispered back.

"Finally," Annalee whispered, rolling her eyes. "I was just going to ask you if you were psyched about tonight, that's all!"

Christine huffed, and replied sarcastically, "You interrupted my note taking to ask me if I'm excited about seeing the greatest musical on earth? You're mental."

Anna giggled, and went back to her notes. Christine sighed and resumed her note-taking.

Or what _should have been_ her notes.

If you could read her so-called "geometry notes" you would see this:

_OK Misses Opera Ninny put your hands up-I'm calling the cops if you kill my friends off!_

_Monsieur Opera Ghost, stop stalking me NOW! I'll call the police on you if you don't leave me alone! _

"Urgh, this isn't coming out like I thought it would," Christine muttered, twirling her pen with her fingers. "I think I should just go with the flow, yeah, that's it—go with the flow…I can't do that! I have to sound eloquent, refined! Not like some stupid teenage girl mildly obsessed with the Phantom of the Opera! Maybe I should act like I'm Carlotta or something; she's got enough confidence for a whole army!"

In her mind's eye, Christine saw herself ridiculously dressed in a gaudy neon green and purple outfit and a poodle under one arm, snapping angrily in rapid Italian and swatting a plumed Red Death with a ruler, finely made tacky purple shoes tapping the floor impatiently.

_Then again, maybe not. Though it would be hilarious…_

"That's all for today, you may do whatever you want for the rest of the period, as long as it's productive," the young substitute teacher said from the front of the classroom as she wiped off the erasable blackboard.

_Yes! Now I can read more of my book!_ Christine thought as everyone around her immediately began talking loudly to each other, forgetting about the _productive_ part of their free time.

_Wow…Raoul is such a pansy, going into her dressing room and embarrassing himself like that! Geez, he's hooked on Christine…AH-HAH! ERIK! Darn it, it's just his voice…CHRISTINE, NO! You're not supposed to do that! Urgh, leaving Erik like that…heh, doesn't even notice Raoul standing by her door…_

_RING!_

"Gosh darn it; I've come to loathe that bell…" Christine muttered as she packed up her schoolbooks. Now all she had was chorus, and that was the most boring class of the day—which it shouldn't have been.

Mr. Gall was the band and chorus teacher—and he knew absolutely nothing about what he was teaching half the time. Classes took place in the recital hall, the very same one in which Erik and Christine had their encounter the day before. All the lights burned garishly, and now it just seemed dull, plain, instead of mysterious and ethereal. Everyone sat down in the highly uncomfortable plastic chairs and waited for Mr. Gall to come in. Ten minutes after the start of the period, Mr. Gall came bumbling in, empty handed, the thin hair ringed around a bald spot in the back of his head clearly mussed.

Luckily, Anna was with her, so it wouldn't be too unbearable. Unfortunately, Mr. Gall had seemed to have lost his notes for the hundredth time that year, so, it was a whole free period. Well, unfortunate for SOME people…like Constance, who had to help him find his lesson plans…

Christine buried herself back into Leroux's novel, completely ignoring her fellow students running around the auditorium, the incessant laughing and gossiping, singing, and instrument playing. A few guys had taken out their guitars and began strumming them monotonously, a gaggle of giggling girls fawning all over them.

Anna kept looking over her best friend's shoulder, commenting on each passage of the book Christine was reading.

"Can you believe the Opera Ghost just did that? I mean, he just waltzed right into the ballroom, and everyone laughed and wanted to get him drinks! Then he shows up at the dinner table! Poor Firmin, poor, poor Armand…do you know his name was Armand in the book and in the play and movie he was Andre?" She kept saying in the redhead's ear.

"Yes Anna! I know! Now stop and let me read ALONE for a while, all right?" Christine snapped.

"Geez, it's just that I'm so happy that you're finally reading my favorite book, after Harry Potter, of course," the brunette replied.

"I actually think that this one surpasses Rowling's in style, I can't believe it didn't do all that well when it first came out! It's so much funnier than Harry Potter, even though our dear Potions Master will always have a place in our hearts…" Christine trailed off as she thought of Alan Rickman in the first movie. He wasn't as cool in the second and third ones, but he still was the most awesome character…

"I don't see why you like him so much, Chris, he's so ugly and mean!" Anna said, her face scrunching in a look of extreme distaste.

"Blasphemy! How CAN you say that Severus Snape is ugly! All right, so he's not a Tom Cruise, but he's just got _something_ about him that just draws you to him…And have you ever thought about _why_ he's mean and nasty? DUH, he's a _spy_—he can't have Drakey and the other Slytherins running to their parents if he starts being _nice_ to the other students! Plus, he looks so darn good in those billowing black robes of his…not everyone can pull that off…" Christine sighed dreamily. "Just like Erik, don't you think? Everyone gets the wrong impression of him…Everyone thought that he was a monster, a murderer—well he did kill people, but that's beyond the point. He wasn't a monster, and everyone judged him without even getting to know they guy...just like I did…" the last bit of her sentence was so quiet that Anna couldn't hear.

"Well, whatever Christine. I'm gonna go over there with Constance, all right?" Annalee asked as she stood up.

Christine nodded absently and waved her off, already absorbed in the world of the Paris Opera House.

Anna came back just a few minutes later, clearly excited about something, judging by the bouncing and darting eyes. "Christine!" she whispered, bending down into her best friend's right ear.

"What now?" the redhead snapped; annoyed that she had been so abruptly torn out of her book for the third time that day.

"Well, Constance and some of the other guys from the Drama Club are going to check out the haunted Lavonne Mansion today right after school, do you think you wanna come? It's the one right behind the school you know!" she said in a rush, her excitement bubbling with every word coming from her lips.

"You bet! You're sure it won't take time away from getting ready for the Phantom of the Opera tonight?" Christine asked.

The brunette squealed. "Positive! So it's settled- we go explore the house and get out of there before an hour's up! This is gonna be so awesome! We're meeting behind the music building as soon as school lets out, all right?"

"Yes, now shoo so I can get back to reading!"

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**There! Now you guys can review! Thanks to EVERYONE who's reviewed so far!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**-Laura**


	9. The Haunted Mansion Part One

**Chapter 9**

**Oh yeah! _59_ reviews! You guys are so awesome: grins stupidly:**

**NEW POPE NEW POPE NEW POPE! Hurrah! Hahaha, lol. Pope Benedict XVI, huh? He doesn't seem old at ALL! Which is cool. Not that I'm saying old people aren't! It's just neat that he seemed so energetic when he came out on the balcony and addressed the THOUSANDS of people crowding St. Peter's Square…I got chills when I saw everything unfold, when the seven bells started ringing, and then almost an hour after that, Joseph Ratzinger stepped out from behind the red curtains and started waving at the THOUSANDS of people in the Square…heh, and he was thinking about going into retirement…guess the Holy man upstairs had different plans for him…**

**THREE UPDATES IN FIVE DAYS! I _wanted_ to get this out yesterday, but alas, school got in the way. Geometry exams- : mutters incoherently under breath:**

**: Tips fedora to the Lady Abyss: Merci, mademoiselle!**

**_Erianna Abyss: I'm on your favorites list: sobs dramatically: what an honor, what an HONOR! Thank you, thank you, THANK you!_**

**_ANGEL OF MYSTERY: That's too cool that you're reading it for the first time too! I've only seen the movie…MAY THIRD MAY THIRD MAY THIRD! Totally psyched about that! I'm gonna get it the day it comes out, and lock myself in my room for the rest of the day, watching it over and over and over and over again…_**

**_Violin Rose: WE MUST BE TWINS! There can be no other explanation! Hahaha, that is too creepy! You love Snape, too! And yeah, that's what I would think, heck, that's what I DID think when I was writing it! Wowee, that's just way too awesome! Scary, but awesome! _**

**_BobMcBobBob1: You know, honestly I had every intention of emailing you back, but, RL got in the way…SEE! CHRISTINE GOT HER HEAD BACK! Yay! Jeez, I thought she sounded a little floozy when I reread the chapters up 'til then…well, not really. Isn't she a strong heroine? It seems in all the other phics I've read, the girl falls madly in love with Erik almost RIGHT AWAY! Sometimes—maybe not ALL the time, but sometimes. That's enough for me. THIS Christine isn't…yet. She's got tons more obstacles to overcome. She's my favorite character EVER in my fics…well, you know, 'cept for Erik--but we all knew that._**

**_Nota Lone: Nyah-hah, gotcha! I totally freaked everyone out when I said I wasn't updating 'til June…ANYway, what the heck does 'chucu' mean? Just wondering…And NO, Stephen is ABSITIVELY POSOLUTELY NOT a fop! He was sorely miffed when he read that…or at least he probably WOULD have been, if he'd actually read it…NEW POPE NEW POPE NEW POPE!_**

**_CarKeys: Well thank you for reviewing my humble little story!_**

_**:coughYEAHRIGHTcoughcough: Mutters: humble story? Pshaw…**_

_**Hehe, that's almost as ridiculous as ME being humble…eh heh…**_

**Now, I think it's safe to end this little authoress's note…**

**Please review when you're done reading this here chappy!**

**-Alianne **

**(I've decided that I like to be mysterious.)**

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**THE HAUNTED MANSION Part One  
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**The brunette squealed. "Positive! So it's settled- we go explore the house and get out of there before an hour's up! This is gonna be so awesome! We're meeting behind the music building as soon as school lets out, all right?"**

"**Yes, now shoo so I can get back to reading!"**

* * *

The group huddled together behind one of the storage sheds near the music building right after the bell rang signaling the end of the school day. Christine was the last to show, her nose buried in her book as she walked towards the little buildings.

She didn't notice the group, didn't even notice them as she walked by, her eyes darting back and forth across the lines of the pages of Leroux's Gothic horror story. She didn't even notice that she was walking straight towards the small forest; she was so enthralled with her book.

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"Where's Christine?" Anna whispered to the group, even though they were the only ones around. There were supposed to be seven in all, four girls and three guys, some of them from the drama club, and a couple were just in it for the thrill. Constance and a girl named Larissa, who was one of the seniors, were drama club members, and the redhead, Anna, and two guys weren't—they just wanted to check out the supposedly haunted mansion.

"I don't know, maybe she got scared," sneered the president of the Thespian Society.

"There she is!" Mikhail, the only male drama club member there, pointed to the copper-haired figure entering the forest.

They all ran over to her and Constance snatched the book out of Christine's hands. The redhead's eyes smoldered as she pinned the mousy blonde with a frightening glare. Constance looked a little uneasy before saying, "You were supposed to meet us behind the sheds! Not go off on your own! And what's this?"

Constance turned the book over to the cover and an evil, almost feral grin spread across her face. "Hm, the_ Phantom of the Opera_, Christine? Learning about your soon-to-be lover? I applaud you, my dear," she drawled _very_ sarcastically, using a finger to push her glasses higher up on her nose.

Christine was fuming, but tried her best not to let it show. She must have done a good job, because when she answered her voice was almost normal. "Just forget about it, okay? I found it in the library, and it's merely interesting, that's all. Let's go you guys; I have to get home soon, anyway." The redhead's arm darted out and snatched her book back, and she turned around and walked back into the forest. The others followed, and Anna caught up with her best friend.

"Isn't this exciting? It's actually _haunted_! Do you think we'll see any ghosts?" she rambled, by some chance extremely hyper. Christine took a calming breath, trying not to roll her eyes. "Yes it is, Ann, I'm thrilled," she answered back.

In all honesty, Christine wasn't. Usually, this kind of thing would get her as excited as Anna was, but all she wanted to do now was finish Leroux's book before tonight. Plus, she still didn't know how she was going to deal with her phantom stalker. That alone was enough to ruin her fun, along with Constance so politely ripping her book out of her hands like that. At least she got it back. She couldn't even read the book now, because of all the tree roots sticking out from the earth, and the plants and saplings in the way. She'd probably trip and make a fool out of herself, and she wasn't going to do that in front of her nemesis.

Constance and Larissa led the group through the trees, and they both gasped as they came into a clearing. The back of the Lavonne mansion was just as impressive as its front, ominous and beautiful. Christine looked up at the roof and saw statues placed in intervals on the rims, gargoyles, angels, gods and goddesses. It was amazing, how could this be in their quaint little Victorian neighborhood? It was so…Gothic, enchanting…out of place. But coming from the forest, it seemed almost magical, like one was expecting it to rise above the trees, its spires touching the sun. It reminded Christine of the castle in the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast, the rooftop scene, when Gaston and the Beast are fighting. That kind of Gothic, that kind of enchanting…

The high schoolers gazed at the mansion in wonder unabashedly, their mouths most assuredly wide open; even the guys couldn't believe that the forest was hiding _this._ They didn't even notice where they were standing, they were so mesmerized.

Larissa was the first to snap out of it, but she still kept looking up at the magnificent building every few seconds, as if to make sure it was still there. The senior girl started poking around, trying to find the way in. A large pine stood proudly by a stone wall, Spanish moss hanging copiously from it, creating an almost curtain. She brushed the moss aside and came to an ivy covered alcove. She rapped on the cool stone wall, and slid her hands down the leaves until they came to a rusty door knob.

"Hey guys!" she hissed, her eyes darting to make sure no one was around. "I found it! Let's go!"

The others blinked and came out of their trances, and Constance roughly pushed Christine aside in her haste to be first. None of them paid any attention to where they had been standing, so focused on getting in that they didn't see the wall of flowers surrounding them as they ran straightforward along a white gravel path.

The redhead glared viciously at the drama club president's back, seemingly trying to burn a whole through it. However, her gaze traveled back to the enormous mansion, taking in every bit of it, her chest aching painfully at its aged magnificence. It felt like her heart would burst if she looked at it any longer, and she tore her eyes from the building, but didn't see her friends anywhere. A tiny thread of nervousness ran through her, but then she saw a pair of sneakers disappear a curtain of Spanish moss from a tree growing beside it hanging low.

Christine sighed almost inaudibly in relief, until a flash of dark red caught her eye. She turned her head and her heart leapt into her throat.

Rosebushes had surrounded the entire clearing, and she realized that they had been in a garden. But what got her was the color of the roses.

They were beautiful, flawless pale pinks, magentas, ruby reds, creamy whites, and the last…the last were such a dark, sensuous crimson that they seemed almost black in color.

Just like her rose…the rose that Erik had given her…

Many more flowers grew along the paths of the garden, all of them perfect, dazzling in color. It was unearthly beautiful, Christine thought. Even the white gravel paths were perfect; crunching deliciously underneath her flip-flops as she explored the wondrous place, all thoughts of ghost hunting flew out the window. She heard a faint gurgling, and set off to find the source of the sound. The redhead came to a large, rimless fountain that seemed to rise out of the very ground, streams of water branching off between gaps in the rosebushes into the bowels of the garden. A black marble bench was placed at a safe distance from the water.

It was like Alice in Wonderland, now all she needed was a white rabbit to come rushing by…

Christine jumped when she heard the crackling of branches opposite and squeaked as a white blur streaked across the water towards her. It settled on the marble bench and looked at her pointedly, its soft pink nose gently sniffing the air, amber eyes fixed on the girl.

She giggled at the irony of the situation and at herself as she walked slowly towards the white cat. "And to think I thought you were gonna hurt me, Miss Rabbit" she said, still giggling as she held her hand out for the feline to sniff.

The pure white cat rubbed her head against Christine's hand, and the girl sat down next to the purring animal. They stayed like that, the girl watching the water spout from the angel's lips, and the cat nuzzling her nose into her shirt.

All of a sudden, the cat shot from the redhead's gentle hold, speeding along the path. She turned around and fixed her gaze on the freshman, her tail thumping lazily on the gravel.

Christine's eyebrows furrowed. "You want me to follow you?" she asked, getting up from the black bench.

She could have sworn the cat nodded at her.

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**Weeeeell…this is part one of…I don't exactly know how many! Hahaha, probably two, this is important to the plot…ERIK COMES NEXT CHAPTER! Yay! I know you guys are excited about that! Will update on Monday! **

**And if ya want a cameo, please email me with a DETAILED description of your character! **

**Hey Rissa, ya like me putting you into my story? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send me details, like hair color, eye color, height, alrighty? Unless you don't WANT to be in the story…:pouts: I hope you do want to be in it!**

'**Til then, you guys!**

**PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**


	10. The Haunted Mansion Part Two!

**WOW!**

**O.o**

**Now how many reviews is THAT, hm?**

**A LOT! **

**Knew I said I would update TWO DAYS AGO, alas, school and piano got in the way!**

**BUT….**

**I think you'll like this chapter….FINALLY, ERIK! Almost THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS! **

**Might be a little serious, though…**

**Don't worry; the next one will be absolutely hee-larious! Me 'n EriannaAbyss have made sure of that! **

**BE SURE TO CHECK OUT**_ **EriannaAbyss's**_ **PHANTASTIQUE STORY "BLIND EXTENTIALISM", IT IS TOO AWESOME!**

**WoOt! **

**You know; after I finish school and everything, go on a Phantom of the Opera/Labyrinth/InuYasha/PoTO/Labyrinth/Inuyasha/PHANTOM OF THE OPERA frenzy.**

**I'm entitled to one of those, am I not?**

**Oh, and I'm using ALWs 2004 movie Christine, because I just want it to be that way! I know in Leroux she was BLONDE…**

**Oh my gosh, I think that's where the term 'dumb blonde' came from!**

**Now, without further ado, Chapter Ten! It's a very long one, only because I couldn't find a good place to stop! But don't worry, there's an awesome cliffhanger to keep you guys on your toes! I am so evil. :maniacal laughter played on gramophone:**

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**The Haunted Mansion Part Two!**

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_**All of a sudden, the cat shot from the redhead's gentle hold, speeding along the path. She turned around and fixed her gaze on the freshman, her tail thumping lazily on the gravel.**_

_**Christine's eyebrows furrowed. "You want me to follow you?" she asked, getting up from the black bench. **_

_**She could have sworn the cat nodded at her.**_

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Erik didn't wake until after noon, feeling refreshed and ready to face his betrayer's progeny. All signs of self-pity had vanished, leaving in their wake a man with a craving for a good baguette or two. A bit stiff after a night in the hard, merciless casket, he made his way down a flight of stairs leading to the second floor kitchen. He placed a hand on one of the brass candlelit sconces lining the dark and shadowy staircase, causing a hidden door to appear, which led to the second floor breakfast area. His main bedroom was on the fifth level above the house, but he had numerous ones in the basement levels. 

It turns out that the 'haunted' Lavonne mansion had much more than met the eye. It had twelve stories, seven above ground and five below, unusual for a house, even one in New Orleans, stone gargoyles and angels guarding it, more rooms than he could count, and one of his personal favorites, the thousands of secret passageways found all over the house. There was a kitchen on almost every floor, elaborately decorated rooms with seemingly no purpose. Now, they were overfilled with the contents of his past travels, his old lairs. A collection of Punjab lassos hung upon the walls of one room on the fourth floor above ground, numerous trap doors littered the house, just in case. Somehow, he had managed to fill almost every room of the house with music scores, small libraries, some were full of costumes from previous Operas, mask collections, and at least seventy different bedrooms, of which he had no use for, but they were nice, so Erik decided not to mess with them.

_You never know when you could have surprise guests,_ Don Juan had said once.

_Although I doubt we will have a whole army of them,_ the rational Erik had replied.

But, his preferred part of the mansion would always be the roof. Like the rest of the house, it was majestic, monolithic deities and demons forever trapped in their stone prisons as they looked out coldly over the garden and the rest of New Orleans. He could see the newly built high school in the distance, the roofs of the Victorian neighborhood, and the hazy skyscrapers in the distance.

He found himself remembering exactly how he had come to this place in America, how he had met the young girl Christine, how she had danced with him just the night before. She was strange; intriguing….but she already had someone. She already had a _lover_, he thought with undisguised disgust as he thought about the night before…

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**_(Long flashback here, sorry! But it had to be done!)_**

**Night of the parade:**

_The man who once signed his letters 'O.G.' stood for a long moment staring after the enigmatic redhead as she raced off, hiking her maroon skirts up as she ran and disappeared into the crowd of spectators still clicking away furiously on their cameras. He saw her head of copper curls bob up and down, a beacon of light in the swirls of blacks, oranges, greens, golds and purples. _

_Don Juan set off after his Aminta; following her all the way back to her house in the quaint neighborhood of restored Victorian houses. He watched as the descendant of his lost love and betrayer scurried up the great magnolia tree onto her balcony with ease, the full skirts of her costume hardly being a hindrance as she climbed. The girl Christine slipped into her room, the lightweight curtains billowing in the breeze as she disappeared into the bowels of her bedroom._

_Erik quickly scaled the tree, but paused at the branch leading to the balcony, his eye catching on a flash of white. He heard water rushing somewhere in the background coming from the girl's room, presumably from the shower, as he stared at the magnolia blossom, marveling at its beautiful perfection._

_And Erik seemed to have a habit of loving beautiful things…even when they did not love him back. _

_The former Phantom gently plucked the bloom from its place, handling it delicately as not to tear its soft, velvety petals. He slid off the branch and stepped silently onto the balcony just as the young girl burst out of her bathroom and plopped down in her computer chair, using a dark blue fluffy towel to dry her hair as she waited for the sign on screen to come on. He heard her mutter not so quietly about someone not being online again, and that she'd call him tomorrow._

_A small pang of jealousy hit him, and he wondered why he had the almost uncontrollable urge to strangle whoever she was talking about. Then he realized that he was starting to crush the magnolia in his hands and all the bloodlust immediately froze in his veins. _

_**Why am I acting this way? I have no reason to! Whoever she decides to be with should not be my problem**, a part of him said. _

_**But you know no one can ever be good enough for her**, another voice, his inner passionate Don Juan replied in a heated voice. Not even you. _

_**Just shut it, Donny boy!** The first voice snapped. _

_**I'm just saying that no boy deserves her, she's just too special, too amazing, even at her age… just like no one deserved my Christine…**Don Juan said._

_**She wasn't your Christine to begin with!** His newer, rational part of his mind cried; the part that showed up after the whole affair that got him into this whole eternal life business. It was Don Juan who got him into this mess, the perfect lover, the perfect man residing in the depths of Erik's mind, the one who fell in love and lived happily ever after. Everything Erik could not be; everything he wasn't. _

_He saw the girl get up from the laptop on her desk and come towards the balcony window. Erik pushed himself deeper into the shadows outside she gazed for a long moment at the quarter moon shining high above the houses, standing at the point where balcony met room, hands on the brass door handles. Her face was mixed with emotion as the pale light washed over her delicate features; bliss, suppressed anxiety, and wonder were the most prominent, even on just the left side of her profile. Christine sighed deeply and closed the in swinging glass balcony doors quietly before slipping under the purple covers of her bed. _

_Erik stayed outside until he was sure the girl was fast asleep and still clasping the magnolia blossom in one hand noiselessly opened the French doors, which swung into the room quietly, the sudden breeze making the white gauzy curtains ruffle. He padded over to where the girl slept peacefully, a soft smile gracing her claret lips. Erik took the time now to truly look at the girl, something he had done earlier, but now it was a whole different story. Now she wasn't talking, her eyes weren't lit with the seemingly eternal blaze as they were when she was awake, now her face wasn't nearly as expressive._

_**And why can't I bring myself to hurt her? She deserves it! No, no! It's not her fault I was cursed!** The two voices battled against each other, but the man just shook them both off and peered closer behind his black half mask, taking in every bit of the girl, then suddenly staggered back, unable to breathe. _

_Did she know how much she looked like **her**? _

_It was true; he could have almost mistaken this Christine for the one who had betrayed him. If only her hair were the luxurious chestnut he had always wanted to entangle his hands in…_

_He set the magnolia blossom gently down onto the sleeping girl's bedside table and fled, taking care to close the balcony doors before swiftly descending the tree and making his way back to his mansion less than fifteen blocks away._

_He couldn't sleep that night; no matter how hard he tried, the blissful darkness wouldn't overtake him. Instead, he settled for a night of furiously pounding away on his pipe organ until his fingers were raw and bleeding. All the pain and anguish and anger he had kept inside for so long came out in his playing, but each time he started one of his newer compositions, he kept unconsciously reverting back to pieces from Don Juan Triumphant, frustrating him even more, until he finally slumped over, then jumped right up again as he remembered the young Chagny girl's invitation to see his musical, or rather, the one based on his life._

_Would he go? Why wouldn't he? He planned on going sometime anyway, why not now? _

_**Are you sure it's not just a pathetic excuse to be close to Christine again?** The wicked rational voice whispered. _

_**Of course not!** Don Juan denied vehemently._

_Erik ignored the pesky voices that were now quarreling yet again, and crept upstairs to his coffin after taking his black half mask off. Of course he had a bed in his room, but the moment called for some self-depreciation and morbidness. Wasn't he entitled to that every few decades?_

_He slipped inside its cold, unforgiving depths and wallowed in self pity._

_How he loathed time, hated watching the people around him live their lives happily from infancy to old age in peace; while he was always on the outside looking in. He had tried killing himself after she left, but even when he thought it was all over, his wounds healed, and he got up and walked once more. The shell of a man stayed beneath the Opera house even after the mob came and destroyed his lair, he still had his secrets, after all._

_But why couldn't he kill himself? _

_The question had rung in his head for years, until one day, while he was deep beneath the Opera because he dared not venture out into the building now, the answer struck him like a bolt of lightning._

_**Gypsies**. _

_The imbecilic gypsy man who had imprisoned him, they had somehow found out about the cause of his death, then used their Seer to curse him with eternal life!_

_Now it was all so simple, so very, very simple. There was nothing he could do about it, either. He had come out of his slump and risen from the depths of hell to enter his eternal purgatory. The world had changed so much in the fifty years he had still been beneath the Opera Garnier; a World War had come and gone, and a novel and a motion picture made about him, of all things! _

_Monsieur Gaston Leroux had come down into the cellars of the Opera house, searching for the "Opera Ghost", and found Erik huddled in a small cave littered with scores of music librettos, shards from broken mirrors spread across the slippery surface of the Phantom's new lair. Leroux had been a jovial man and Erik couldn't help but like him right away. Gaston had also been the only one not to flinch or blanch or cry out in horror when he saw the other man's face. He once said that the other man's deformity resembled a nasty sunburn and that it wasn't all that bad…well, that episode wasn't all that great, to say the least. But Erik's respect for him grew even during that one fitful tirade, and Leroux began visiting every once in a while when he could get away from his publishers, and it was M. Leroux came up with the brilliant idea one day to write a book about his dear friend._

_He had agreed to tell the man all that he wanted, under the condition that a select few details would be altered, like the mask on his face. Erik had obviously been in a very good mood as he described the events taken place twenty years ago. Raoul sounded much foppier than usual, Christine was a silly little girl, and the managers were even more hilarious than they had been in real life. They both agreed on making it gruesome, terrible and dramatic, but they didn't expect it to do all that well with the public. After all, who would want to read about a hideously deformed murderer and his lusting after an innocent dim-witted girl? _

_And it didn't do all that well, at first. Then the silent motion picture came out in the 1920s, and his story became known worldwide. Erik decided to leave Paris, permanently, and he traveled all around the world, day after day watching the world change before his very eyes. _

_The man gifted with the curse of eternal life closed his eyes and had a nightmare about the haunting golden eyes with silver rims that seemed to follow him wherever he went…_

* * *

He blinked, coming out of his trance, but thought he was being delusional again, because he saw a flash of copper in his oh-so-secret garden hidden behind the mansion. 

Erik focused his eyes on the young girl and put one palm on a stony gargoyle, but belatedly noticed the presence of six other scrawny teenagers. All of them seemed fascinated with his temporary home, but then, who wouldn't be?

Christine looked up suddenly, and he hid himself behind the statue. _Curses! She almost saw me…Me and my damned curiosity…_

_What curiosity?_ Don Juan asked innocently.

Erik rolled his eyes. _I thought I had finally gotten rid of you two after all these years,_ he drawled in his mind.

_Like you ever could,_ the rational Erik replied haughtily. The physical Erik ignored this, cautiously creeping out from behind the statue, but he saw none of the brats anymore. He peered out over the garden and saw the redhead wandering along one of its many paths, but those other blasted children were nowhere to be seen!

His lips twisted into a devious smirk as he realized that the rest of the little group had found one of the ways into his house. _How entertaining…_

A white blur caught his eye as it rushed out of its hiding place in the rosebush hedges—Ayesha. His old Siamese cat had died centuries ago, the pretentious beast. He had liked her nonetheless, and he still felt a twinge of remorse at the memory of her death. Erik had found this new Ayesha rummaging in the garbage bins in an alley in Prague; she looked so pitiful with the apple core dangling from one white ear and the dirt and grime caked all over her pure white coat that the man couldn't help but take her in.

He saw Christine gently take his cat into her arms and felt something stir deep within him. _Damn it all, this _can't_ be happening **again**…_Erik shook his head violently and pushed all the ridiculous thoughts out of his head. She was what, fourteen years old for goodness sakes! Maybe fifteen…Much too young…The age gap was too big…

The rational Erik snickered. _Well of course, you nit, you're a hundred and seventy one years old! _

The voice continued to laugh as Ayesha darted out of the girl's arms and the real Erik continued to watch the scene unfold. He cursed in every language he knew when he realized he couldn't hear a word Christine was saying. Finally, the redhead followed the white feline down a different path, towards…

A door in the hedge.

A bell rang, and Erik vanished from his rooftop perch into the bowels of his mansion.

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**Christine's POV:**

Christine couldn't believe what was happening. First, she meets a man claiming to be one of the greatest literary figures of all time, then comes across a mansion that looks like something out of a storybook, walks into a fairy tale-like secret garden like something out of Alice in Wonderland, follows a white cat that seems to know much more than it should, and know _this._

She stared at the door in the rosebush hedge disbelievingly. The girl pinched herself _hard_, and she felt a sharp pain on her forearm—this was definitely no dream.

The cat looked up at the redhead and back at the wooden door again.

The girl sighed and reached out and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open noiselessly, revealing a void of darkness. The young cat disappeared into it, her tiny claws slicking on unseen stone steps. Christine groaned and descended into the black depths, behind her, going lower and lower beneath the hidden garden.

The journey was over far quicker than Christine had first imagined it would, as she stepped out into what seemed to be a dusty living room. She wrinkled her nose at the musty smell of the room- _we_ _must be underground still_, she thought. It was quite dark, but her eyes were slowly getting used to the lack of light until she saw two golden orbs shining to her right. She saw a thin spiral staircase leading out of the place up to another level of the house behind the cat. The girl didn't pay too much attention to the rest of the house as she climbed what seemed like a hundred floors, yet there were only five of them, she realized, coming to a much better lit room—the foyer of the Lavonne mansion.

She heard a clattering from one of the nearby rooms and slowly crept into it and gasped. There were Constance, Larissa and Mikhail hunched over in front of a table holding shards of something, quite possibly a vase, but where were the others?

Her question was answered almost instantaneously as another crash resounded in the room, making everyone shriek in surprise. Anna and the two other guys not in the drama club burst out from behind a portrait of a horseman hung on the wall, gasping for breath and clutching their side-stitched abdomens.

"You guys, there's someone in here!" One of the guys rasped. His light brown hair was sweaty and disheveled, much like his other two companions appearances, even Anna's.

"What do you mean?" Christine asked, finally showing herself to the people in the room. Everyone jumped again, and Constance hissed, "Geez Chrissy, give us all heart attacks why don't you?"

"Sorry," the redhead muttered. The seven teens huddled close together near a dusty couch, jumping at the slightest little sounds of the settling house. The curtains were drawn, strangely, because it was still daylight outside, and electric sconces lined the walls, causing shadows to flicker eerily across the teen's faces.

"So, what were you saying about someone in here?" Larissa whispered, her bright blue eyes wide with apprehension.

"I dunno," Mark said, clutching his girlfriend's arm comfortingly. Larissa seemed a little less frightened at his touch and calmed down enough to listen. "We followed the rest of you guys in, but then the walls just kind of shifted, and we found ourselves in this room full of whips and stuff. We heard this one bell kinda sound, and it was really creepy, and then we saw this guy who came out from nowhere standing there in front of us, and it was effing scary, it wasn't evenfunny. Then we ran out of that freaky room and then Anna here fell into another wall, the klutz. Turns out, it was like a secret tunnel thing, and we found ourselves here, and that's it," he explained.

The six teenagers were standing across from Christine, who stood alone near one of the wing chairs of the parlor. They froze after hearing Mark's explanation, staring in horror at something beyond the redhead, who was lost in thought. She didn't see the man come up behind her and when he placed a hand on her shoulder she screamed in surprise.

Then the lights went out.

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**Hahahaha, hope you liked the cliffy! Oh, and Erianna Abyss, can you find where I put you in this chappy? It's kind of vague, but I promise, you'll be a big part in the chapters to come! **

**Now, PLEASE REVIEW! It's 11 PM, plus it totally makes my day! Night, whatever! **

**-Alianne**


	11. The Haunted Mansion Part 3 and Enter Eri...

**Hmmm…not that many reviews this time…HA! As if…so, I had what, 68 reviews when I posted this, and now I only have 76? Bummer, man, bummer. LMAO! But it's still totally cool that you guys can get so worked up over ONE GINORMOUS CLIFFHANGER! It's obscene, you guys! I sympathize…I hate reading fics with a juicy cliffy and they don't update soon enough…LIKE MEEE! LOL, sorry! I hope the funny-ness and length makes up for your wait!**

**I HAVE A NEW NAME! Ya, you will call me….La Femme Fedora from now on! Haven't figured out what my costume will look like, but it's in the works! And I STILL need a weapon of choice…No thanks to Chrissy…:evil glare directed at the foppy Phantom of the Rock-Era**

**Yeah, you heard me correctly, FOP GIRL: Hysterical laughter:**

**Ahem.**

**No, you're not a fop…that's too nice of me to say that. Plus, Raoul is awesome, don't forget!**

**YA, YOU HEARD ME, RAOUL IS TOTALLY HOT! **

**But he's not as hot as Erik…DEFINITELY not as hot as Erik. O'course, we already knew that. Well, I don't think there will be much more in Erik's POV, as it IS Christine's story, meaning it revolves around HER! But don't worry your pretty little heads, my darlings, for Erik will indeed play a major role in my precious phic! Well DUH, he IS the Phantom of the Opera, why the heck else would I be writing this if it weren't for HIM? Of course, I could have been writing this because of Raoul….or Piangi…:Sob: YOU DIED, PIANGI! THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO YOU! I kinda feel bad for Mlle. Guidicelli, you know, she DID love him. Remember after Erik and Christine fall into that pit from the bridge, and Carlotta sees Piangi with the rope around his neck, she says 'MI AMORE, MI AMORE, PIANGI!" while sobbing. And I didn't think those were fake tears, either—but our diva is quite the actress…ANYway…I know you've been waiting so patiently :COUGH: for this update, so I'll let you read…as long as you promise to review! Do we have an accord:snicker: I love that line from POTC…Lahve Jack Sparrow…whoops, CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow…sorry! OMFG, I WAS WATCHING POTO FOR THE SECOND TIME EVER AS I WROTE THIS, SO, IF CHRISTINE SEEMS A LITTLE…..GIDDY, IT'S ALL MY FAULT! (Oh, and I was watching it in French the second time, which is as good as the English version…well, 'cept for Raoul—his voice wasn't worth beans to a starving man…and that was a _really_ bad metaphor…)**

_**-Alianne**_

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_**The Haunted Mansion Part Three, and ERIK'S STALKER!**_

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_**Last time:**_

_**The six teenagers were standing across from Christine, who stood alone near one of the wing chairs of the parlor. They froze after hearing Mark's explanation, staring in horror at something beyond the redhead, who was lost in thought. She didn't see the man come up behind her and when he placed a hand on her shoulder she screamed in surprise.**_

_**Then the lights went out. **_

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As she listened to Mark talk about the man upstairs, Christine could concentrate on only one thing: Erik. Only one person could fit Mark's description, even if there was no mentioning of a white half mask. So this might be Erik's house…how fitting. The oldest, most haunted building in New Orleans that she knew of had to be inhabited by a former specter, but human nonetheless.

Christine had to stifle a giggle at that thought, but then felt the hand grab her shoulder and whirl her around to face him, and she screamed in shock. The lights went out and everything was cloaked in darkness, except for the pair of golden eyes burning above everyone else's heads.

A few candles in the room suddenly burst into flame, causing shadows to dance across the teenagers' faces, and successfully make Erik seem even more ominous in his white half mask.

It was then that Christine realized how exactly tall her possible friend was. He towered almost half a foot over the tallest of the teenage boys, Mikhail, so, he must have been at least six and a half feet tall. Erik wrapped his other arm around the tiny redhead, pulling her to his chest, where she breathed in deeply and was pleasantly surrounded with the scent of spices and soap. His voice rumbled in his chest, making a pleasant shiver run through the girl, who was listening with rapt attention to his thundering voice.

"Leave! Go back to your families and never come back, and forget all you've seen, unless you wish to cause your loved ones any harm!" Erik bellowed.

Everyone was silent, until Christine pulled her face away from Erik's dark grey wool sweater and shouted, "Just go you guys! I'll be fine!"

The teens paused for a moment, then whimpered and fled the house through the front door. Constance knocked over another vase in the foyer on her way out. She paused and turned around, but then started running again after she looked back upon the smoldering yellow eyes, who were daring her to pick up the pieces.

The last of the girls exited with a slam of one of the heavy wooden double doors at the mansion's front entrance.

Christine jumped out of Erik's hold and started hunting around the room for a light switch, or at least _something_ to get her out of this blasted half-light. Her knee hit one of the armchairs, but she didn't lose her footing. She ran her hands along the wall, but before she could find a switch, the lights suddenly returned, and Erik was still in the middle of the room where she had left him, and she saw that her hand was resting mere inches from a dimmer dial.

"I'm not even going to ask how you did that," she muttered, standing in place near the dimmer dial, eyeing the man warily.

Erik chuckled and flicked his eyes up to a dangling chain hung from the chandelier by his head.

Christine could only utter a small "Oh" in reply. She could feel her cheeks fizz, and knew she was blushing. The redhead drew herself up to her full height, which was still almost a foot shorter than Erik's towering figure and took a deep breath.

Radiating confidence she felt faltering inside her, she took a step towards Erik, staring at him intently, should he try anything to catch her off guard. He stood where he was, watching the redhead with…was that amusement glinting in his eyes?

It was! _Stupid Opera Ghost…thinks it's funny, huh? I'll show him funny…_Christine thought as she took a few more steps towards the man.

"Listen," she said, her voice a little shaky at first, but as she went on, it got stronger and she became surer or herself going against the Phantom of the Opera, probably something no one had ever done before and lived. "I know you got into my room somehow on TWO occasions, that's breaking and entering, Erik! You took advantage of me! So what, you helped me get away from those evil guys, big deal! You take that as an invitation to my bedroom? I can't believe you! And you threatened my friends!"

Erik was furious, she could tell by the ticking of his jaw muscles, even if it didn't show on the rest of his face, especially the side covered by his mask. "Is this my thanks for rescuing you? And you, mademoiselle, are the one breaking and entering, or have you forgotten how you got in here?" he said, his voice cold and harsh.

Christine should have known that was coming. Well…can't say that she wasn't expecting that one…

"Of course I thanked you, didn't you hear me that night? And _I_ wasn't breaking and entering; I just followed your cat! How was I supposed to know this house was yours, hmm? It looked totally abandoned, except for the garden, but that's not my point!" she cried, ready to start pulling her hair if he continued to be difficult like this.

The redhead huffed and looked Erik straight in the eyes, where she met burning golden flames almost audibly crackling with emotion.

But all she did was nibble her lower lip nervously, take another deep breath and began to speak once more, this time her voice was imploring, almost desperate. "Erik, I don't know what you want with me…I just don't want any of my friends to get hurt! And my family of course; if it really turns out that I'm the descendant of Chr—the Vicomtess de Chagny, I don't need you coming after them for some stupid revenge scheme! I've got enough to deal with as it is, like finals, keeping you a secret, keeping my music a secret and other school stuff! I don't need an angry former ghost stalking me, too! So just leave. Me. ALONE!" her voice grew louder in her desperation and she realized that she was mere inches away from Erik, whose face was tipped down to look at hers fully.

His eyes reflected just a spark of pain at her words, but was quickly hidden once more, his eyes again blazing with cold fire now.

Christine was then hit by what she said, and the thought of never seeing Erik again, and she tried to amend it. "Oh, gosh Erik, I didn't mean it like that…I just…I DON'T KNOW! I don't know what to do, okay? There! I said it! Do you need anymore? I had hoped that we could be friends, but…"

She sighed, exasperatedly. "I don't know whether to call the cops on you, or what, Erik. Well, I can't really do that anyway, they'd never believe I had a hundred and fifty year-old Phantom of the Opera stalking me…" She stopped as an idea hit her full force. "Erik? How about we _do_ become friends?" she asked.

Erik, who had been silently seething the whole time the young girl spoke, stared down at Christine in complete confusion, whose face was only inches from his, her breath sending wisps of warm air across his face. _She wanted to be friends? After all she's said? She practically accused me of trying to…rape her! And she wants to be friends? But, I understand about the room part, she _was_ almost raped that first time we met. If I hadn't been there…who knows what would have happened. _

She seemed to sense his bewilderment at her request and clarified. "Well, if we were friends, which I hope we can be, you would have someone to talk to, share your secrets with, like a confidante, and I would have the same, too. It would be nice for us to just talk with each other, right? I can't really talk to anyone else about lots of things, and since we're in this together, why not be friends and make it a lot easier on ourselves? Believe me Erik; you could have had it worse, especially if Anna was in my position instead…" Christine trailed off and started to giggle. She turned away from him and sat in one of the many armchairs in the parlor.

Erik studied the girl intently as she stared up at him, her face hopeful, her expressive green eyes bright. He sighed inaudibly and took a seat in a dark green armchair across from Christine.

He could see that she was still nervous around him, though; the way she kept nibbling her lower lip, and crossing and re-crossing her ankles were testament to that fact. He stared at her unblinkingly, like he was trying to discover all her secrets with his eyes by looking into her very soul…And it was making Christine quite self-conscious. She straightened her light green polo shirt, and fiddled with her hands until he spoke again.

"Now, what exactly would this _friendship_ entail?" he asked, studying her features intently still.

_Yes!_ Her mind cried triumphantly. She had to hold back the small grin threatening to overtake her. "Well, I _do_ want to be your friend, isn't that enough?" She asked.

"Quit dancing around the subject, you're acting more of a snake than a lioness. Now what are your true motives?" he asked back, still staring at her.

She dropped her head with a dramatic sigh. "Gosh, Erik, no wonder you don't have any friends! You keep acting like _this_! Haven't you had any friends before?" The redhead realized her mistake right before he stood up abruptly from his chair and disappeared before her very eyes.

Christine groaned and exclaimed, "ERIK! COME BACK HERE!" But all she saw was an empty parlor around her. "DOES NADIR COUNT? SO THAT'S ONE! Oh fine then, ignore me! It's not like I care! Well, I do, but, GEEZ! I'm sorry, Erik! I didn't mean it like THAT! I just wanted to be called your friend! Is that too much to ask?"

Still there was no answer.

Christine could feel irritation swelling inside her. "I guess it is then, if you're acting like a petulant CHILD about it!" She yelled loudly. She didn't see Erik appear from behind her until it was too late, and he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him.

And instead of the anger she was expecting to see, there was that same glint of amusement from before!

Erik took his hands away from her shoulders, but stayed where he was. "I've decided to take you up on your offer of friendship, mademoiselle," he said.

Christine didn't reply; she couldn't! So, the Phantom of the Opera actually wanted to be her friend? She didn't think he would actually do that, but she had hoped he would, somehow. So she just stared at him with a suspicious look in her eyes.

She could tell that he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes before he said any more. "Yes, you have hear me correctly, little lioness. We shall be friends…" and with that he stuck out his hand towards the freshman girl.

The redhead quirked an eyebrow at this, and reached for it after a moment's contemplation, but Erik pulled it away abruptly and turned around.

"Under one condition," he said, standing by the mantelpiece of the fireplace.

Christine didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. "And what would that be, Monsieur Fantóme?" she asked, taking a few steps towards one of the two armchairs sitting by the hearth.

The sides of his full lips tugged upwards as he said, "No more bringing your friends into abandoned mansions- they could get…damaged."

The girl's eyebrows furrowed, and she frowned. "_Damaged_? No, I don't think I want to risk them falling through trap doors and being tied to portcullises. You probably have those in here, too, don't you!" she said making a face. "Well then, I have a few conditions of my own, just to be fair," she added with an almost evil grin.

Erik raised an eyebrow in a silent question. _Interesting…_

"First off, no kidnapping sopranos like me, or anyone, for that matter. No strangling, no croaking stuff, well…maybe for Constance….yes, the toad thing works here…Oh! And no falling sets or light fixtures! But only on Constance! And…that's it…oh wait, no coming into my room unless I say you can!" she finished, grinning triumphantly at the man standing by the grate.

He glanced at the girl sideways, his profile parallel with the mantle. "I think that's a bit unbalanced, don't you think?" he asked, amusement showing clearly on the left side of his face.

"Nope, not a bit!" Christine replied. "In fact, I think it's perfectly reasonable!"

Erik smirked and turned to face the girl fully. "Then do we have an accord?" he questioned, offering his hand to her. The redhead was overcome with a fit of giggles and she managed to gasp out, "Oh my gosh, you sounded just like Jack! I mean, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow!" and she took his hand and shook it decisively.

"So it's settled, then," he said after they both sat down in the armchairs by the fireplace. "But who is this Jack Sparrow?"

Christine laughed again, and Erik realized that this was something this girl would be doing a lot of in the future. But he wasn't truly irritated by it like the way he loathed the twittering ballet brats at the Opera House, it sounded almost musical when she laughed, so it was fine by him.

She was about to tell him about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie when they heard the ring of a doorbell coming from the wooden double doors in the foyer. Erik looked at Christine wildly. "Would you mind getting that? I don't really answer the door but for some _special_ occasions, as this house is _supposed_ to be haunted," he said, his eyes darting to the front door and back to Christine again. He looked almost….nervous? Afraid?

She nodded and fixed Erik with a concerned eye before walking to the huge mahogany doors. She pulled one open slightly and saw a rather tiny Asian girl about her age who sported golden eyes with silver rims around them. She seemed rather wolfish, and her hair was a long and silky black with random multi-colored braids in bright greens, purples, and reds. She wore some ragged jeans with holes in them in different places, converse tennis shoes, a black t-shirt with the Phantom's tell-tale half mask and crimson rose on it, a black suit jacket, and on top of it all, a black leather cape around her shoulders.

"Where is he," she ordered, rather than questioned, peering into the foyer from the crack in the door, and tried to push her way into the mansion. Christine held the door firmly, backing the girl up back onto the front porch.

"I'm fine, thank you. The name's Christine, what's yours?" the redhead asked, just a tad annoyed with this girl.

"Christina," the other girl answered tersely. She seemed ready to break the redhead's neck when she heard her name. "Now where is he?" she asked again, still trying to get a good look at the inside of the house.

Christine decided to play dumb about it. "Who are you talking about, Christina?" she asked, pretending to not have a clue who she was talking about.

"Don't play dumb with me _Christine_, and don't call me Christina, it makes me think of that twit from the play how chose the fop. Call me Chris, mmk?" the other girl snapped.

"Okay, _Christina_, what is it you want with me here? I just came up to check on the house while the owners are umm…out of town. They won't be back for a while, so, yeah," Christine replied, putting emphasis on the other girl's name.

The two glared at each other, and then Chris suddenly broke out into a grin. "Good form, Chrissy dear, good form!"

The ice being broken, they both giggled for a moment, and when they stopped, Christine asked, "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Oh, I like to follow Erik around sometimes, it's really quite fun, you know," Chris answered.

"Really? Oh wow, that's really hard to do! He just disappears some times! How do you do it?" the redhead asked.

"So, he _does_ live here, doesn't he? I guess he's safe, for now," the Asian girl said, grinning evilly. "I have my ways," she replied mysteriously.

"Oooh, tell me more! Tell me more!" Christine implored. The other girl grinned again, and she began to recount her adventures in Singapore. The two girls sat down on the porch swing together.

"Well, I had been with my family on vacation there a few years ago, and I saw this guy walking down the street with a white half-mask, and my parents really didn't care what I did, as long as I was at the hotel at the end of the day, so I decided to follow him. He went back to a mansion on the outskirts of the city, and I've been following him ever since. Oh, and once, I hid in his piano!" she said, grinning smugly.

"Whoa, really? Ha, I wonder how well he took _that_ one!" the redhead said, laughing.

"Pretty good, I think. He only threw a couple books at me that time. Sometimes, he throws huge candelabras, and those hurt a little bit…But anyway, as I was saying, I hid in his piano, and when he started to play, the stupid little hammer things hit me in the stomach, and those hurt, by the way. So, I jumped out of it, and I was wearing this exact same cape, and some boxers with his name on them," Chris said. "And a shirt of course," she added as an afterthought. They both started laughing.

"Oh, did the boxers have Punjab lassos on them? That would have been hilarious!" Christine cried, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh my giddy Aunt, how did you know?" Chris replied, clutching her side from all the laughing they were doing. "Hehe, I'm kind of obsessed with the Phantom of the Opera…" Chris trailed off, grinning sheepishly.

"Oh my gosh, you have to meet my friend, Anna! She's totally hooked on it, too! So am I, but, under the circumstances, I can't really do much with it—my family hates music, AND anything Phantom related! It's so unfair sometimes! But, I'm seeing it tonight, anyway," Christine said with a giggle.

"So am I! It's the one at the Amphitheatre at 8, right?"

"Yes! Wow, I hope we get seats near each other!" Christine cried.

"Oh, me too! This is going to be so awesome, Chrissy!" the other girl hugged Christine and then looked at her watch on a gloved wrist. "Oh my gosh, we have to start getting ready! It's already 6:09!"

Christine yelped and looked at her blue wristwatch. "Okay, but don't try anything with Erik tonight, alright?" she asked her new friend pleadingly.

Chris pondered for a moment, then said, "All right, Chrissy, I'll _try_ not to glomp him, but, that'll be kinda hard to do…Haven't you gotten that urge to huggle him? I mean, you know him personally."

Christine looked bewildered and a blush crept across her cheeks. "Umm…I can't say that I have…"

"Liar!" Chris laughed. "You know you wanna glomp him, so do it already!"

"Christina! I already have a boyfriend!" Christine hissed, her eyes darting to the mansion windows looking out at the porch to see if Erik was watching. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there by the swishing of one of the heavy scarlet velvet curtains.

"Oh…can I have him then?" the other girl asked, her face brightening.

"No! I mean, sure, whatever! But he's practically scared stiff of you, you know," said Christine.

"I know; that's how I like it!" Chris giggled. "Well, I gotta go home now Chris, I just moved in a few hours ago, ha!" She ran down the steps leading from the porch to the sidewalk.

"Where do you live?" Christine called.

"Just a few streets over! Wait a sec, lemme come up there again!" the Filipino girl ran back up the porch steps and took a piece of paper and a pen out from a pocket in her suit jacket. "Here, my phone number! What's yours?" Christine gave her new friend her cell number and got Chris' in return. "Byeee!" Chris shouted as she ran back down the street.

"Bye!" Christine waved and waited for the other girl to turn a corner and vanish from sight before going back into the house. Erik was standing in the foyer, his arms crossed, and his eyes were still focused on the door, as if expecting Chris to come running back into the house.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Oh, umm…it was some sales guy. He was selling…peanut butter. For umm…the senior citizen people in the community," she replied, stumbling for an answer, but prided herself on thinking of such an ingenious fib.

"Liar. It was _her_, wasn't it?" Erik asked amusedly. The redhead almost fell over. He didn't buy it! Oh crud, oh crud, oh crud…

"Umm, yes?"

He laughed; a warm, rich full-throated one. "You can't lie to save yourself!"

Annoyed, Christine replied, "Oh really? I'm glad you find it so funny! I just happened to save you after all! Chris promised me she wouldn't _try_ to do anything to you! She didn't even see you! Well, anyway, I've got to go get ready for tonight, so…yeah.

"You're coming, right?" she asked.

"I was invited, wasn't I? And you said yourself I would fit right in, my little lioness," Erik answered.

"I thought I told you not to call me that!" Christine huffed, scowling.

"But I want to, so nothing else matters, does it?" the man behind the half mask replied.

"You're so difficult!" the redhead cried.

"I know, don't you just revel in it?"

"No, I don't!"

"Oh, you know you do," Erik said smugly.

"For the last time, you darned Opera Ghost, I don't!"

"Don't you have an event to prepare yourself for?" he countered smoothly.

"I—hmph!" Christine turned from him and started to walk towards the door, but changed her mind and ran back to him. The redhead threw her arms around his chest and both stayed like that for a moment.

She pulled away first, and smiled happily, "Thanks, Erik. I'm glad we're friends now."

Erik only nodded; he was still disoriented from her sudden embrace.

"Bye Erik! 'Til tonight!" she called, her bright orange flip-flops flapping behind her as she ran down the porch to her house again.

* * *

_**WOOOOOOOOO! Done! I wrote most of this on Tuesday and Wednesday, and the encounter between Chris and Christine was written today! **_

**_Oh, and for the wonderful Erik-obsessed character Chris, thank EriannaAbyss! It's her!_**

_**DIDJA LIKE IT? TELL ME TELL ME TELL MEEEEE!**_

**_Please review, review, review! _**

_**Love ya guys!**_

**_-La Femme Fedora (Or Alianne, or Laura, or whatever…)_**


	12. The Phone Call and the Play

**Hey everybody!**

**Sorry it took so long, but, I had to mull things over for a few WEEKS, about this chapter, lol. It's kinda important, well, that's an understatement, but yeah. Last phic I did, I hardly did any revising and I didn't THINK about it thoroughly, and it suffered. I took it down, so if you had wanted to read my phic "Red and Black", it went bye-bye. Down the drain, into an oubliette and sent to the Bog of Eternal Stench, dropped into the Abysmal Abyss! Lol, yeah! I'm going to resurrect it this summer, when I have TIME to write---**

**Anyway…**

**I FINISHED LEROUX'S "Le Fantome de L'Opera" AFTER A MONTH OF READING IT! Of course, I could only read when I had the chance, so it was really only three hours, teehee. **

**OH MY GOSH, EIGHTY FIVE REVIEWS! Hopefully after this chapter, we'll be at 95! Or maybe a hundred, hmm? ;) **

**Be sure to thank _BobMcBobBob1_ and _EriannaAbyss_, because without them, this story wouldn't be HALF as good as it is now! So, thank you 'Rissa and Chris! Your cameos, well, actually, you guys will be in much of the upcoming chapters, so, I guess they're not cameos anymore now, are they! And thanks to ALL my reviewers that have been with me since the beginning! BUT WHERE ARE YOU _SHADOWFAIRY!_ :tear: YOU DISAPPEARED-ED!**

**Oh, and _Madame Opera Ghost_, at least I think it was you, said something about two Christines—nuh-uh, there's ONE Christine and ONE Christina. But, the difference between them are their nicknames—the freaky girl (HA! Take THAT POTR-E! lmao) is Chris, and the main character Christine's nickname is Chrissy. Sorry about the confusion Mame. O.G! **

**AND I GOT A NEW REVIEWER! WOO! Thanks _GavinVenom_! **

**And now, the moment you've all been waiting for….ERIK SEEING THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA FOR THE FIRST TIME! And a call from a certain black haired boy back in Cali, maybe? Read and you shall see!**

**-Alianne**

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* * *

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**The Phone Call and the Play**

* * *

"_**I—hmph!" Christine turned from him and started to walk towards the door, but changed her mind and ran back to him. The redhead threw her arms around his chest and both stayed like that for a moment. **_

_**She pulled away first, and smiled happily, "Thanks, Erik. I'm glad we're friends now."**_

**_Erik only nodded; he was still disoriented from the girl's sudden embrace. _**

"_**Bye Erik! 'Til tonight!" she called, her bright orange flip-flops flapping behind her as she ran down the porch to her house again.**_

* * *

Christine shimmied up the magnolia tree and leapt into her bedroom over the railing. She decided to shower before doing anything else and ran to the hall linen closet after slipping off her ridiculous orange flip-flops. All she could think about now was getting ready early enough so she would have the time to call Stephen.

Christine raced into her bathroom and switched on her hot curlers before turning on the hot water. She gathered her new, clean undergarments from her dresser drawer and went back into the bathroom. She emerged fifteen minutes later in a light yellow tank top and matching shorts with bananas and monkeys on them, rubbing the ends of her long copper hair together with a lime green towel. The girl immediately opened her closet doors and flipped through the outfits she had. She went through almost all the clothes in her closet before pulling out a knee length dark green and red skirt with a large plaid print and a black mock-turtleneck with long sleeves, as it would be colder tonight. They were wrinkly and she groaned.

"Argh, ironing…MOM!" Christine called, thundering down the stairs.

"What, Chrissy, hon?" her mother's auburn curls came into view from the kitchen. Luscious smells wafted from the oven, and a timer buzzed, signaling the completion of a delicious golden brown pork roast. Reneé Chagny pulled it out of the stove and took off her oven mitts. She came out of the kitchen just in time to catch a turtleneck and skirt hurtling towards her face and see her daughter run back up the stairs.

Mrs. Chagny rolled her eyes and went to the hall closet to set up the ironing board.

Upstairs, Christine dug through her dresser drawers until she found a pair of black knit tights. She went back to her closet and pulled out her favorite pair of shoes: black suede boots with a sophisticated wedge and black suede ties and shiny silver buckles. They had flaps on the top near her knee, and they gave the impression of a huntress, which Christine loved above everything else about the boots.

Christine didn't know exactly how she was going to wear her hair tonight, up or down? She held up her copper locks and surveyed her image in the bathroom mirror.

Definitely down.

The girl flipped open the case holding the heated curlers and parted her hair and rolled them in, securing them with pins. Then she dabbed a small makeup brush under the trickling water from the sink's faucet and applied some dark moss green eye-liner and dark brown mascara to her upper and lower eyelashes, creating the effect of even brighter and more striking eyes. A hot pink color of lip-gloss which Christine had never really had a use for accented her full mouth instead of her normal lavenders, lighter oranges and neutral colors that she wore every other ordinary day.

Her bedroom door opened and in slipped her mom with the freshly ironed outfit. Mrs. Chagny laid them gently on her daughter's bed and stood for a moment, giving her Christine a fond look before going to the closet and pulling out a dark blue duffel bag. She started putting in the clothes that Christine would need for her sleep-over tonight; pajamas, fresh clothes for the morning after, the DVDs her daughter normally brought over to the Howell girl's apartment in the French Quarter. The woman slipped out with the duffel bag before her daughter noticed anything.

Christine came back out of the bathroom with her hair nice and curled and put on the turtleneck and skirt. She was sitting on her bed tugging her black tights on when a familiar muffled jingle sounded from her nightstand drawer. Her hand darted to the drawer and out emerged her tiny silver cell phone in one slender hand, vibrating with each ring.

She saw the number on the screen and her heart leapt into her throat. "Hello?" she asked, feeling light-headed when she heard the person on the other end finally speak.

"Christine! I'm sorry, Christine, it's just…It's so strange talking to you now, hearing your voice for the first time in months! I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to call!" Stephen's voice said. Christine's heart beat madly in her chest when she heard the genuine heart-ache in his voice. _This_ was why she chose him—he wasn't like any of the other guys she had met; Stephen was caring, and wasn't afraid to show his emotions, plus, he was pretty cute, too. That was always a bonus.

But somehow…she felt herself thinking of the conversation when she saw the movie again at Anna's house later that night. It reminded her of the scene where Raoul was imploring to Christine Daaé during the confrontation between the three in Erik's lair. How similar they sounded…but Stephen was no Raoul, and for that the girl was grateful.

"That's okay Steve, two months wasn't long at all, really," Christine replied sarcastically. "But, I'm glad you FINALLY did call, you know," she added.

"Yeah, Dad wanted me to start 'expanding my horizons'—which means every minute I'm not doing homework or sports, I'm in his office sorting papers. Calculators have become my best friend, seriously," Stephen said on the other end. Christine laughed, and she could feel her heart still thundering madly against her chest. She loved feeling this way, loved talking to him. She looked at her watch and saw that it was not even seven o'clock yet. The two began talking about other things, like school, sports, their music, and of the new friends they had made since the beginning of their freshman year. But Christine didn't mention anything about Erik.

All too soon it was 7:30, which meant they would have to end their conversation now so Christine wouldn't be late for the musical at the local college's theatre. "Well, I have to go, okay Stephen?" she said, more than a little disappointed that their conversation had to end so soon, but maybe a little too eager to get off the phone so she could meet up with Anna, Chris, and Erik.

"Right--sorry we couldn't talk longer! I hope you have a great time tonight with all your friends!" he replied, maybe a little too enthusiastically to sound genuine.

They both hesitated—Christine's thoughts swirled around in her head. _Should I…no, it's just weird saying it now…gosh this is confusing…_she mused. Not wanting to think about those three very important words any longer, she hung up after saying a quick 'bye'.

Christine gave a huge sigh of relief. Who knew that all those emotions could be so taxing? She was still feeling a little light-headed as she put on her boots and walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where her mom was dutifully washing her hands after putting two plates on the dinner table for herself and Brent, who would be staying at home tonight.

"I got your bag all ready, Janey. It's by the front door," her mom said, wiping her hands with a red dishtowel, still not looking back. She turned around to face her daughter and the same fond look she wore in her daughter's bedroom just half an hour ago crossed her features. "Oh Janey, you're so beautiful! I don't think I like this, you look so grown up! And you're only fifteen!" Renee Chagny cried, throwing her arms around her child, who instinctively embraced her mom fiercely in return.

"Mo-o-om," Christine groaned, pulling away. A car honk sounded from the street, and with it came a shout.

"CHRISTINE! COME ON! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!" Anna yelled. Renee chuckled and put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, not knowing it was the same one Erik's hand had occupied earlier that afternoon.

"Be careful, Jane Christine Chagny," her mom warned.

"Of course, mom! Don't worry, I'll be fine!" Christine replied. She grabbed her dark blue duffle bag, which was full of everything she needed that night. "Save some of that roast for me!" she called, shouldering the duffel bag and running out the front door to Anna's mom's station wagon.

* * *

Christina was already on the front steps leading to the double doors of the LSU New Orleans campus' Amphitheatre by the time Anna, her mom, and Christine pulled into the street light littered parking lot. She jumped up as Christine climbed out of the station wagon. "CHRISSY!" she yelled, staying where she was.

The redhead and Anna ran over to the Asian girl and they began the introductions. Anna eyed Chris' outfit surreptitiously under her lashes as her best friend happily introduced the two, taking note of the other girl's mismatched fingerless gloves and the black suit jacket with tails hiding a white blouse. She could barely make out a black pull-over hoody underneath the suit jacket and the brunette could see a pair of long black dress slacks, and the toes of shiny black boots.

Anna's own outfit was a pretty affair of blue—she wore a slim, gauzy sky blue dress with silver heels and a pair of faux diamond chandelier earrings that dangled from her earlobes. Her hair was up in a bejeweled clip; two tendrils of her curly brown hair tantalizingly framed her pretty features.

Introductions over with, Christine finally noticed her new friend's hair. "Chris, your hair!" she cried. "It's auburn now! But it was black this afternoon…And it's so long!" Christine gawked at its length: Chris' hair went past her hips! And she almost found herself envying the way her new friend's hair was nearly perfectly wavy, not like the springy curls the redhead had to tame with hot curlers.

The Asian looking girl laughed. "Yeah, it was _dyed_ black—this is my natural color. Heh, sure right it's long! Now let's get inside!" she said, grabbing both girls' hands and pulling them through the throng of people flooding into Amphitheatre.

"Hey Anna, Christine! Over here!" a girl called, waving from her post at the ticket stand. Larissa was wearing a pretty red knee-length dress with thin spaghetti straps. Mark was beside her in a chair passing out the seat numbers and putting money into a safe box.

" 'Rissa! Wow, your dress is so cute! Where'd ya get it?" Anna asked brightly, and the two girls launched into a conversation consisting of their favorite outfits and new clothing stores. Christine rolled her eyes and looked at Chris, who was uncharacteristically silent. The Asian girl was looking at someone behind the redhead with unsuppressed glee.

Christine felt a hand on her left shoulder this time, and turned around to see Erik standing in front of her. He looked a little disconcerted at the hungry stare Chris was unabashedly giving him, but quickly focused on the redhead.

He had traded the dark grey sweater from the afternoon in the mansion for a black one and grey dress pants, which showed off his slimmer build than the Erik in the movie Christine had come to know. He was lean, but not gaunt; tall, almost abnormally tall—he was as imposing figure to behold, and the two girls couldn't keep their eyes off of him. Erik was wearing a black half-mask tonight instead of his standard white one.

"Good evening, little lioness," he purred. Christine blushed and glared at him when she heard Christina's giggles from her right.

"Good evening yourself, Monsieur Opera Nit," the redhead replied sweetly, tilting her head a little to see him better. She heard Chris choke with laughter from her right, but Christine still faced Erik, her blush growing brighter as his eyes lit up with amusement. The rational Erik guffawed at what she had said, but Don Juan didn't know whether he should be amused or affronted. But he settled for amused when he saw the girl was blushing bright red.

"Shall we take our seats, mademoiselle?" the man offered his arm to Christine chivalrously and she giggled a little and placed a hand on his forearm like women from the Victorian Era used to do. She saw it in tons of movies and hoped she got it right. She laughed at Anna's face when the two walked by the food stand where the girl in blue was currently chatting with Constance and a few other girls Christine didn't know but had seen before at school.

"Hey Connie, Anna," Christine waved at the two with her right arm, her left hand still on Erik's right forearm. She suppressed a hysterical laugh when she saw Constance's eyes widen considerably, and Anna's goldfish impersonation.

"Nice freak ya got there, Christie," Constance sneered, finally getting her penchant for petty remarks back. "How'd you get _him_ to come with you? No one in their right minds would, that's for sure."

Christine saw the appalled look on Erik's face and she squeezed his forearm in reassurance—she was used to these little snipes from Constance, but she was still more than a little embarrassed because the drama club girl did it in front of the very guy she had sworn to worship. She couldn't help but giggle at that—everyone knew Constance was a little more than obsessed about the Phantom of the Opera---but then again, not everyone knew about Christina and her…past times…

The mousy blonde girl scowled when the redhead showed her amusement, but Christine just smiled sweetly, even though her cheeks were tinged with pink. "Well, I'm the one here with this extremely handsome so-called 'freak', so lay off you little prying Pandora and get out of our way. We have a musical to see and we will not be kept waiting by stupid little Erik-fanatics like you," Christine said with a sickeningly sweet grin that showed off all her pearly whites, relishing with a sadistic pleasure the look on both Erik and Constance's faces.

_So the lioness has bared her teeth…_Erik thought to himself as he saw the two girls face off. He couldn't say that he wasn't expecting the insult to _his_ person, after all, a century and a half had done nothing to ease civilization's scrutiny on a face such as his. However, he was most taken aback when that _girl_ spoke to his kitten in such a crude manner.

_Oh yes, **your** kitten, hmm?_ Rational Erik inquired. _Since when is she **yours?**_

Just shut up, Erik replied, keeping an ear on what the girl beside him was saying.

"Please excuse us, Connie, and don't come near us again tonight—I wish to have a _pleasant_ evening, without _you_ ruining it with ill-placed words that you could regret later on," he heard Christine sniff. The redhead pulled him away from the rude girl and walked away as swiftly as she could, but Erik was giving her a hard time with that because he was digging his heels into the lush red carpet, preventing them from going any further. They were by one of the entrances to the theatre aisles on the first floor.

"Now _what_ was that all about, kitten?" the man asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down his nose, or what was left of it behind his mask, at the blushing redhead. But the blush wasn't caused by shyness, oh no. Anger was the reason, righteous anger directed towards the girl who had dared insult her friend so callously.

"Kitten? Now that's better than _lioness_," she said, grinning ever so slightly. Then her face turned serious, "And what do you mean, 'what was all that about'? Uh, duh, Erik—she just insulted you pretty badly, and I couldn't let her do that to one of my friends, especially you! You aren't a freak, you're…you're _you!_ Constance literally wants to sanctify the ground you walk on, or at least, the character based off of you anyway, yet she still finds the gall to so rudely say those things that aren't true!"

She looked up at Erik earnestly. "Believe me Erik, I can't take her anymore! I deal with her every day at school, and tonight's special—you're here as my friend, which makes it all the more important to me, and all my friends are here…" She broke off with a rueful grin.

Erik could only stare at her as she looked out at the stage's curtains that were sometimes being bumped as people prepared backstage. She was being so open with him, and it made him feel proud, and amused at the same time. She could get so worked up about things…it was an endearing trait of the girl's. But the fact remained…she was more than a century younger than him….and why the heck was he thinking these horrid thoughts?

"Well, what I mean is, I don't want to give her the satisfaction of ruining our night, so let's go find our seats, Erik!" With that, Christine pulled Erik towards the upstairs levels to their assigned seats. This time, he didn't even try to stop her.

"Hey CHRISSY, ERIK!" the two people sitting comfortably upstairs heard someone shout from below. Christine bent over the railing and saw Chris waving up at her ecstatically.

"Our seats," at this, the Asian girl gestured to Constance and Mikhail, "are down here, but Larissa and Anna are going upstairs right now! How's everything up there!" she yelled with her hands cupped around her mouth, drawing the disgruntled stares of the other theater-goers around her.

"Okay! Everything's just peachy up here!" Christine yelled back. "Oh, and Erik says hi!"

Erik, who had recently joined the redhead, bolted like a rabbit from the railing back to his seat when he saw the girl below give him a devilish grin and blow a huge kiss up to him.

The two girls laughed and the lights started to dim slowly. Larissa and Anna had brought four popcorns and drinks and were already situated by the time the voice from the speakers called for silence and asked the theatre-goers to turn off all cell phones and to enjoy the show.

Larissa was at the end of the middle aisle, with Anna on her right, Christine on Anna's right, and Erik on Christine's right. There were a few seats separating Erik from a cuddling old couple who looked very much in love, even after all the years they must have been together, and the seat next to him held all the girls' purses. _Now why must women have these contraptions?_ Don Juan had grumbled as the girls handed him their purses so he could set them in the empty seat to his right.

The curtains finally opened, and Erik could see that Christine was watching everything happening on the stage with undisguised delight. At first, Erik thought it was quite boring, until he heard the Overture blasting from the orchestra pit…and he was filled with a sharp pain in his stomach.

_How…how in the world did these people get my music? _He thought in outrage. _This Andrew Lloyd Webber, how DARE he? _He did notice some changes, however, but how did they get his music? _Was it…_

_Yes…Katherine Leroux…Gaston had brought his youngest daughter to the bowels of his Opera House a few times before he left…She had always been interested in his music…she married an Englishman…what was his name…ah yes, William Hart…that was it…she was only what, fifteen, sixteen when her father introduced us…the conniving little…she took his music! _

_But now the world adored him, if not for his true musical genius, then his literary fame…He didn't know whether to strangle her or…well, just strangle the girl if he ever met her ghost one day…_

Erik looked around the auditorium and saw the enthralled faces of everyone, faces that positively glowed with excitement and wonder as they heard his music, and he changed his mind.

_Yes, Katherine Marie Leroux would have to be thanked…_

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(Ha, I WAS going to leave it right here, but, I know you guys have been most upset at the dreadful amount of time it took me to get this up, so here's a lot more!)

* * *

Christine watched the actors on the stage eagerly during the first scene—and when the chandelier arose with the Overture thundering in her ears, she snuck a glance at Erik, who seemed to be deep in thought about something, he was staring at the stage, but he wasn't _seeing_ it…

The woman playing Christine was extremely talented; her rendition of "Think of Me" was amazing! Couldn't Erik hear her? She was fantastic!

But Erik was still deep in thought…until the duet between Christine and the Phantom in Christine's dressing room. _Then_ he came out of his trance, and he tensed up, his back ramrod straight in his seat.

He heard the girl beside him singing along with the two people on stage under her breath. She seemed oblivious to everything around her, save the stage. That is, until she turned her head a little towards Erik so she could see him more clearly.

The Phantom of the Opera Suite pounded in their ears, and he had to say, the boy playing his character was quite good, and the young woman acting the part of his former love was bearable, but nothing like _her_…

The play went on peacefully, well, as peacefully as it could get when Erik saw the person playing himself scream in rage at the leading lady in his lair, until the scene between Christine and Raoul on the rooftop on the night of the tragic _Il Muto._ The chandelier had just fallen, just as it did a century and a half ago, and they were singing to each other passionately as the fake snow fell from the rafters around the two actors.

Christine could see the pain in her new friend's eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It had been a big blow to him, and she knew it wasn't really helping that she was part of it…

But then again, maybe it could!

She gently grabbed his left hand and squeezed it comfortingly. She winced when he flinched at her touch. She looked into his eyes and her emotions were as bright as day in hers when she whispered, "I'm here, Erik."

His eyes traveled to where their hands were intertwined and he stared at them for a long moment. Christine took advantage of this and she laid her head gently on his left shoulder, her copper curls contrasting sharply with his black sweater. Erik looked down at the young girl beside him and he felt tears prickling the edges of his eyes.

_Dammit! I will **not** cry! _He thought furiously to himself, but he found one stray tear escaping from his left eye, the one uncovered by his mask, trickle down his cheek and fall onto Christine's hair. She felt it, but didn't look up—she knew this was going to be strange to him, someone who cared about him after all he had done, finally finding a friend after decades of solitude and heartbreak.

She felt him gently squeeze her hand in reply and she smiled into his shoulder. Then she turned her eyes back to the people on stage and laughed in delight during the Masquerade scene, when Erik finally showed himself as the Red Death. She could feel his silent chuckles vibrating in her ear as his character prodded Piangi with his rapier and insulted Carlotta. But they grew silent once again when he heard the 'Phantom' speak to his Christine so harshly.

Then came the 'Twisted Every Way' sequence in the chapel with Raoul and Christine…The redhead's grip on Erik's hand grew unbearably tight and the man could feel her quivering with emotion.

_Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey, do I have any choice? He kills without a thought; he murders all that's good! I know I can't refuse, and yet...I wish I could! Oh God if I agree, what horrors wait for me, in this the Phantom's opera…_

Christine could feel Erik squeeze her hand just as tightly as the fateful Don Juan Triumphant's overture resounded in their heads, the men around them crossing their legs and the women shifting uncomfortably as the Phantom and Christine Daaé sang of the raging fires, opening buds, and crossed bridges…

When the girl playing Christine tore off the Phantom's mask, everyone around the redhead and Erik gasped at the sight of the Phantom's deformed face.

But Jane Christine Chagny was not one of those people.

She pulled her hand away from Erik's and glared furiously at the adults and teenagers around her from the edge of her seat. _How DARE they! It's not even REAL!_ Her mind screamed.

She looked back at Erik, her eyes blazing, and then hugged him fiercely. Erik flinched slightly again, but was grateful for her defense. No one had done this before…touched him willingly…It was all he could do not to tear up again…until the confrontation between the three lovers. Erik cursed himself when he heard his Christine sing those words…_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate…Grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!_

The redhead beside him sang along so softly it was hard for Erik to hear her—but hear her he did…and the memories crashed into him again. The scene ended with Christine returning his ring to him, and Erik cursed himself again for what he did all those years ago.

He didn't feel guilty about Piangi and Buquet—it was necessary that they were disposed of; Piangi was just plain terrible to hear, plus he was in the way, and that _stagehand_ knew too much.

The musical finally ended, and Christine heard sniffles coming from everyone around her. But the redhead didn't cry…she couldn't. That would come later, right now she had to help Erik.

Christine took his right hand in hers and smiled up at him. "Wasn't that great, Erik?" she asked.

Erik stared down at her and replied, "It was…bearable."

The redhead grinned, and they walked out of the Amphitheatre where Anna's mom was waiting in the dark green station wagon. Constance, Larissa, Mark, Mikhail and Anna parted ways and Christine waved back at Erik before she and the brunette girl climbed into the car.

Erik smiled and watched the car disappear from his sight before slipping into the darkness.

Christine and Anna stayed up 'til the wee hours of the morning watching the Phantom of the Opera movie over and over and over again. When Anna had finally dozed off, the redhead lay awake until she gleefully finished reading Leroux's book at sunrise.

At around 11:30, Anna awoke to see her best friend curled up by her window seat with the book resting on her chest, her chest rising and falling softly with every breath. She didn't want to wake her up, so the brunette crept out of the room and into the flat's kitchen, where her mom was already making breakfast.

Christine was awoken by the smell of pancakes and bacon not long after and she leapt up and ran to the kitchen. Mrs. Howell chuckled as the girls devoured their meals in record time. The redhead glanced at her watch and yelped. She was supposed to be home by now! Anna helped her friend repack her things, and Christine called her mom to tell her that she was coming home. Mrs. Chagny didn't seem too upset by this, which made Christine was extremely happy.

Christine said her goodbyes and left, carrying her duffel bag on her shoulder as she walked through the French Quarter. She passed by the alley she had been caught in and shuddered, swiftly passing through it into the neighborhood of Victorian houses.

She entered through the front door of her house this time, and hugged her mother good morning. Christine went upstairs and wasn't surprised to see the crimson rose lying on her bedside table.

**

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:Dodges torches:**

**SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT!**

**HA! YAY! Do you guys like it? I haven't seen the play, just the movie, and I read the book, so…yeah!**

**Review Responses:**

**_EriannaAbyss:_ _MY MUSE! bows before muse THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! REVIEW, NOW!_**

**_Maska:I hope you liked this chapter! Well, Erik's reaction to it is somewhat to be expected, isn't it? Lol, NOW REVIEW! I'm such a dominatrix…HA, no._**

**_ChristineErik: You! Yeah you! REVIEW!_**

**_LiTTleLoTTe1991: YOU REVIEW, TOO!_**

_**And to everyone else I may have forgotten, REVIEW!**_

_**Lol, 'til next chapter, you guys! AND THANKS FOR ALL THE FANTASTIC REVIEWS!**_

_**Alianne**_


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